The Bets are Placed
by brittanablog
Summary: AU. Brittany Pierce bets her friend Quinn that she can go without sex for a month. Santana Lopez bets her friend Puck that she can bed the sexy, tall blond from across the bar. What happens when their attraction gets out of control? All Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this new FF. I'm not 100% sure where the future chapters are going to go, so your feedback in the comments will be super helpful! Also, the POV changes at each line break within the chapter. Hopefully it's not too confusing.**

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><p>I slid my hand under her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her big breasts and pierced nipples. My lips instantly wrapped around her right nipple as I massaged her left, while pushing her back towards the bed. My shirt and bra had been gone since we walked in the door. I laid her down and climbed on top of her, pressing my knee up between her legs. I kept sucking on her breasts as I twirled my tongue around the small metal circle, lightly biting down. I started kneading my knee into her center, and I could feel her wetness soaking through my jeans.<p>

_She's so hot for me. She's got good taste._

I moved off her momentarily as I undid my belt to pull off my jeans, quickly returning to my previous position-latched onto her breasts. I grabbed one of her hands with mine and slid it under my thong to where I craved it. I moved up and sucked on her neck as hard as I could before breathing into her ear.

"Fuck me, Jenn. Fuck me hard."

She quickly obliged, plunging two of her fingers into me, forcing me to moan loudly into her neck as I sucked and bit at her pulse point from on top of her. My knee was still pressed into her, and I started rocking with the motion of her hand, and I could feel her getting wetter and wetter, too. Both of our breathing got faster and heavier as our rhythm got more intense. Finally, as I got close, I lifted my body up and gave her a look, signaling to hold up. I moved me knee to the other side of her so I was straddling her and made my way up the bed, positioning myself over her face. I could feel my own juices running down the sides of my thighs, and apparently, Jenn must have seen them too, because I suddenly felt her tongue licking all around and licking me up. I lowered myself, pushing myself into her face and felt her lips wrap around me, sucking and licking in all the right places. Being greedy, I reached back and shoved two fingers into her-I just wanted to feel her moan into my folds. She did and the vibrations sent me over the edge. I pulled out my fingers and added a third, pressing and curling into her quickly, feeling her walls tightening around my fingers. I rocked my hips, grinding on her face, feeling her tongue go in and out of me like that felt so good.

"That's it, Jenn... oh god, that's it..." I moaned and threw my head back, closing my eyes as I could feel my climax approaching, my screams and moans got more frequent and more desperate.

"Oh!... mmm... yeah, oh god yes! yes! yes!"

I knew she was getting close too and her panting breaths and moans and groans made me even hotter.

She came first, and I came shortly after, yelling through the entire wave.

"That's it! Yes, Jessie, yes!"

Finally I was done and rolled off of her feeling completely relaxed and having no energy, but I was immediately brought back from my euphoria.

"Jessie? Who the fuck is Jessie? You bitch!"

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit!_

"Oh baby, I didn't mean it!"

It was too late, she was already putting her clothes on. She walked over and grabbed my phone off her desk. "Shut the hell up. And don't you dare call me baby."

"What are you doing with my phone?"

"Deleting my number that I gave you tonight! And look, now I'm deleting yours from my phone. See?" She held out her phone for me to see the screen. "See? Santana Deleted!' You stupid slut!"

_I'm the slut? She's the one that offered to give it up!_

"Ugh... fine, whatever."

"Whatever? You don't care that I'm deleting my number and am about to leave?"

"Honestly, not really." I sighed and shrugged. "I'll have a different girl over here tomorrow night if I want to."

My blatant comment threw her over the edge and she slapped a glass lamp off my dresser and stomped out the front door as it shattered on the hardwood floor. I exhaled and laid back on the bed. I really didn't care she left; I kind of liked it, actually. I got what I wanted-_sex_. And I didn't have to act all nice and like I cared in the morning. It was true that I could get another girl over any time I wanted. I'm Santana Lopez. The chicks dig me.

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><p>"Brittany, I'm beginning to think you lack the ability to say 'no' to anyone."<p>

That was my best friend, Quinn. We've known each other since high school, where we cheered and were in the glee club together. This isn't the first time she's lectured me about the ease in which I give in to all the girls that hit on me.

"That's so not true, Quinn! I don't give it up every time! I say 'no' a lot!"

"Hah!" She scoffed. "Okay, then. How about we place a little wager on it?"

"And the wager would be...?" I was intrigued.

"I will bet you can't go a month without having sex. If I win, you give me your vacation house at the beach for the summer. If you win, you get my BMW convertible for the summer."

"Hmm... car for the beach house?" She knew I'd always been eying that car, but my sister and parents will _kill_ me if I lose. But I've always had an ego. I just have to go a month without having sex.

"Done. Deal."

"OK, but that includes anything you lezzies do to get each other off. For the purpose of the deal, anything below the waist is sex."

I chuckled a bit at Quinn's naïveté. She's been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and a really fantastic GLBT ally, but she still gets all squeamish about the sex. Though, that's not reserved solely for "us lezzies," she's pretty tightlipped about sex with her own boyfriend, so at least she's an equal-opportunity prude. "Hah, alright, I can live with that."

"Good."

We shook on it, and I smiled.

"What's the grin for, Britt?"

"Oh nothing. I'm just thinking of all the hot girls I'm gonna be able to fuck in that car next month."

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><p>"Puck, you know I hate this place. It's all straight, leering frat guys that think I'll be the perfect addition to their threesome."<p>

"Chill, Santana. And as much as I like going to the gay bars with you and watch all the girls rubbing on each other, I deserve to go somewhere where I might actually get some. You can deal for just one night."

"UGH! Fiiiiine."

We found a booth and ordered our drinks. Puck had always been my best bud, I could wait this out for him. While we waited on our drinks, I relayed the events of the previous night to him.

"Shit, Santana, I thought you had more game than to scream out the wrong girl's name during sex."

I laughed, "Yeah, I thought I did, too. But oh well. She wasn't all that hot anyways."

"I guess you were wrong though."

"About what?"

"About being able to get another girl if you wanted to the next night. Newsflash, these girls don't play for your team. You're not gonna find a new conquest tonight."

"Oh I beg to differ. I bet I could still take one of these ladies home with me." I slowly scanned the crowd, and smiled when I spotted her. "In fact," I leaned over and elbowed Puck in the shoulder, "that blond over there is gay." He turned his head and took in a long look at the tall, blue-eyed blond at the bar.

"Damn, she's hot too, San. What makes you think she's gay?"

"Cause she's been checking out every chick that walks by her."

"Bullshit. She's as straight as an arrow." He said simply, as he took a swig of his beer. Then he got a mischievous look on his face. "But, if you're so sure, then how about a little friendly wager?"

"And that would be..."

"I bet that you can't get her in your bedroom tonight."

"What's the price?"

"Bar tab for a month."

"Deal. Damn. It's gonna be good having you get me drunk these next few weeks, Puckerman." I winked at him as I started to stand up, taking my drink in one hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Winning," I said, and I sauntered over to the girl who was now staring right at me.

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><p>I smiled to myself as the breathtaking brunette headed my way.<p>

_Yep, I still got it._

"Hey there," she said with a grin.

"Hello yourself. And to what do I owe the pleasure of being approached by a complete stranger?"

She smiled an infectious smile at me as she presented her hand to me. "I'm Santana. See? We don't have to be strangers for long."

_Did she wink at me?_

"Brittany," I said, accepting her offered hand.

"Well, Brittany," she leaned against the bar and I couldn't help by think that her previously adorable smile had turned arrogant. "I couldn't help but notice that you were staring at me for a while. So I decided to come over and see what it was that peaked your interest so much."

_Damn, she is arrogant, but it really worked for her._

"Staring, huh?" I deflected. "Well, maybe your vision needs to be checked. I was most definitely _not _looking your way."

_Lies._

"Oh, well then. Excuse my forwardness..."

And then it happened. She leaned in closely and placed one hand on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to her. I felt movement through my entire body, originating at the touch of that hand. I froze completely, not quite sure what she was going to do, but knowing that I wanted her to do it.

She whispered, barely audible over the music, "... but I was most definitely staring at you." My eyes closed, uncontrollably, at the feel of her breath on my neck. I felt her hand move off my hip, and when my eyes fluttered open, she had stepped back away from me and turned towards the bar to order a drink. She spoke inaudibly to the bartender, and then turned back towards me with the same sly grin as before.

I could see lust in her chocolate brown eyes, and I was certain she could see the same in mine.

_I want this girl. I want her under me, on top of me, standing next to me, kissing me. I just want her. All of her._

_The bet. The damn bet! I am not losing that beach house for the summer. I can't!_

After what felt like hours, but was likely only seconds, the bartender returned with a beer and a martini that looked exactly like what I was already drinking. She reached over, and took the empty martini glass out of my hand, replacing it with the other one.

"How did you...?" I looked at her, confused.

"Don't over think it, babe. I'm not psychic. I just asked the bartender to get another of what you were drinking."

"Oh."

_Shit, now I look like a complete idiot._

"What is that, anyways? It looks super sweet."

"Stoli Raspberry, Chambord, and a twist of lemon," I said softly.

_God, why can't I stop staring at her? She's so mesmerizing._

"So Brittany," she took a step closer to me and placed a hand on my arm. "What do you…"

Out of nowhere, I felt an elbow jam into my back, lurching me forward into Santana, while my drink flew past her arm and crashed onto the bar. I felt her wrap her arm around me, catching me from falling, and steadying me on my feet.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Our faces were mere inches away from each other, and I gasped softly. She looked so sincerely concerned.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. It just startled me. Did my drink spill on you?"

"No, no, I'm totally good."

I stepped back to take a look at her, and saw a good portion of the martini on the ground. "Shit, it got on your boots!"

"Seriously, Britt. It's really not a big deal. They're leather, which means not only do they look super hot, but it'll clean off with no problem."

I started to respond when I was nudged again from behind, not nearly as hard as before, but hard enough to push me slightly forward. Without missing a beat, Santana stepped beside me, shoving the guy who kept bumping me. He stumbled forward and turned around quickly, with a look in his eye saying he wanted to fight.

"Listen, ass-wipe. Clearly, this is your first time ever drinking in public, so Imma help you out a bit. At this point in the night, you and your 'bros' have probably had about five light beers each, and even though most freshmen sorority girls drink more than that for breakfast, it's too much for you all to handle, causing you're your dopey, middle-aged ass to continually knock over my girl, Brittany, here. So take this as _really_ good advice and do not come within 50 feet of either of us for the rest of the night, or else I will _ends you_. And trust me when I tell you that you _really_ don't want to find out what that means."

_God, that was hot._

I stared at the scene, Santana, this passionate, fiery, gorgeous woman, laying _into_ this group of guys who all stood, dumbfounded. Slowly, the backed away, and then shuffled to the other end of the bar, continually glancing over their shoulders with fear. Once she was satisfied they were far enough away, Santana turned back towards me and smiled.

"Now, let me go replace that drink."

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><p>After what seemed like an eternity, I got the bartender's attention, ordered her another drink, tipped him and turned around to walk back over to her. I stopped dead in my tracks.<p>

_She's talking to another girl. Who does that bitch think she is?_

I took a deep breath and slowly walked back over to the two of them, not quite sure what I was getting myself into.

"Here you go, Brittany. Hi," I said to the other girl, wanting to make myself known, "I'm Santana. You are...?"

"Oh, Santana, this is Quinn, my best friend. That guitarist up there is her boyfriend. She's actually the one who dragged me here to watch him play tonight."

I shook Quinn's hand and mumbled a "Nice to meet you," but I couldn't take my eyes off of Brittany.

_Is she blushing?_

She was so quick to tell me that this Quinn girl was straight and with someone.

As she took her drink from me, our fingers lingered on top of each other and our eyes locked again. I could feel the fire between us, and I could tell that she did too. I wanted this girl to come home with me, but not like all of the others. I couldn't explain the feeling I was having, or the aura that she emitted, but I knew that this was something different. The three of us talked for a while about the 'usual' things: jobs, family, travels, etc. But the connection and chemistry between Brittany and I was undeniable. I felt like the whole bar and city and world could feel it.

I looked over at Puck. He had found some young hottie to talk to. As usual, she looked too young for him, and too drunk to be able to realize that. I smiled at him a knowing smile, and he gave me a goofy "Thumbs up!" Though he didn't want to lose the bet, I knew that he thought Brittany was hot, and would ultimately applaud me in the morning for my conquest.

_Conquest? I don't want her to be a conquest._

I looked back over to her and realized that I had zoned out, because Brittany was staring at me with a look on her face that said she was expecting a response. She looked so sexy. I turned to look at Quinn to see if she could give me a hint towards what I was supposed to say, but she was gone.

"I, uh... I'm sorry, what did you say?"

She laughed, thankfully, and leaned over to speak into my ear so I could hear her over the band. It was times like these that I was thankful that the music was loud.

I could feel her warm, sweet breath on my ear and my neck, and I got a chill all the way down my spine.

"San," I couldn't help but smile at the nickname, "Let's get out of here."

She took my earlobe in her mouth and sucked on it slightly. My knees buckled, and I had to grab the bar to keep from falling. She removed her lips from my ear and whispered again.

"I'll take that as a yes." She nipped my earlobe with her teeth again and pulled away with a look of seduction on her face, but I reached up and grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her towards me again. I looked into her ocean blue eyes and wanted so badly to kiss her, but just as our lips were mere millimeters apart, I pulled her face to the side of mine, and I heard her breath catch. I slowly licked the outer part of her ear as I huskily said, "Oh that's definitely a yes, sexy."

_Mission accomplished_.

I paid the remainder of my tab and gave Puck a wink as we headed out of the bar and towards the parking lot. He looked pissed, and I could tell he was not happy about funding my debauchery over the next thirty days, but I had more on my mind than free drinks.

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><p>As we walked towards Santana's car I felt her arm wrap around my waist and I couldn't help but smile.<p>

_This girl is good. I have to be careful. I cannot lose this bet!_

We got to her car and she walked me around to the passenger side, and as I barely opened the door, she slammed her hand on the window and shut it quickly. She turned me around and pressed her body up against mine, her arms propping herself up with a hand on either side of me. She immediately moved in and started kissing my neck, going directly for the pulse point. She lightly sucked on it and pushed her body even harder onto mine. The feeling of her breasts pushing against my own made me incredibly hot and as she bit down on my neck, I couldn't help but let out a slight moan.

"Ohhh, gosh Santana..."

"Shhh..." she said into my neck, placing one of her hands onto my stomach.

She pulled off my neck and looked up into my eyes. She bit the bottom of her lip, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I wrapped one hand around her neck and the other onto her shoulder and pulled her crashing into my lips. Instantly I could feel as if our bodies and formed into one, and her tongue slowly ran along my bottom lip. I opened my lips and slid my tongue into hers, and we gained a rhythm with our tongues like we had been doing this for years.

The hand she had rested on my stomach and slowly lowered itself and was now resting on my belt buckle, while her fingers ran along my skin just above my jeans. I was getting so turned on for her.

_I can't do this! The bet!_

She shifted her body and slyly placed a foot against the inside of mine, parting my legs. She leaned her body into my as her muscular thigh pressed against the area between my legs. I was growing wet; I could feel it.

"Santana!" I gasped for air and pulled back from her.

She looked at me, slightly surprised, but with a look of mischief still on her face.

"Yes?" She smiled and started kissing my jaw and neck and collarbone again. "What is it?"

"I can't... I can't do this..."

"Why not?" Her question was muffled because her lips were still pressed against my skin, making this impossibly hard to verbalize.

"I just can't... not tonight." I was breathing so heavily, and my voice was shaking.

She looked up at me, into my eyes, and moved both hands onto the top of my hips. "Are you sure? That kiss…"

"I know, I know. Trust me, I want to," I ran my hands down her back and looked her up and down and lowered my voice, "I want to so badly, I just… can't."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She smiled.

Normally, I wouldn't believe that. I would think that a girl like this-so fast and hot and loose-would be trying to play with me. But somehow I believed her. She spoke again.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to, under one condition."

_Oh, of course._

"And what's that?" I leaned in and took her bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it teasingly. I just couldn't help myself.

"The condition is that I have to wake up looking at those blue eyes." She kissed me again, with even more passion than before, and this time, it was my knees that buckled.

Her hands on my hips saved me, as they wrapped around onto my ass and grabbed me, pulling me up, without ever breaking that lip lock. I could feel her smiling into the kiss and I pulled back.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Santana!"

"I can't help it," she winked, "I was just looking for a reason to grab your ass all night."

With that we got into the car and headed for her house, making out at every red light and stop sign along the way.

_Damn this is going to be hard._

After a short drive, we pulled into Santana's driveway, and I knew I was gawking at the size of her house.

_This place is huge!_

"You live here?" I asked, incredulously.

She laughed and said, "Yeah, well, when your aunt is Jennifer Lopez, these are the perks. Come on, babe, let me give you the grand tour."

"Wait, wait, wait. You're Jennifer Lopez's niece?"

"Hah, yeah. I don't normally tell people that, actually." She paused, "In fact, I'm not really sure why I just told you. I guess I just felt… comfortable." She reached her hand out again, "Santana Lopez, to be precise." I took her hand to shake it, but she pulled me into her, wrapping her hands around my waist and resting them on the top of my ass.

She pulled me in for what was probably the thousandth kiss we had shared since leaving the bar, yet the sparks and sensuality in it still felt like a first kiss. I moved my right hand up to behind her head and wrapped my fingers in her brown curls, pulling her even deeper in.

_I never want this to stop_.

After a few moments, she finally pulled away slightly, our faces still only inches from each other's and grabbed my hand. "Come on, I was serious about that tour."

As she turned and led me into the house, I couldn't help but notice what a nice ass she had.

_Damnit, Brittany! You cannot sleep with this girl tonight! You have to win that car!_

Suddenly, I realized she was talking to me, so I nodded as if pretending I heard everything she had said. We walked through all of the downstairs, and into a kitchen that was about the size of my entire apartment before heading for a spiral staircase.

_She's taking me up to her bedroom! Think, Brittany, think!_

"Wait, San. I saw a bathroom back there. Gimme a minute?" I looked at her with the most innocent smile I could muster. She laughed and nodded, pointing upstairs to indicate that's where she'd be. "Okay, I'll only be a minute, I promise!"

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><p>I walked up to my room and realized it was still kind of a mess. Thankful for the break to clean up before Brittany came up, I threw all my dirty clothes into the hamper in the closet and put walked over to my iPod, instantly turning on my "Get Into Girls' Pants" playlist. Soft songs floated over the room, and I dimmed the lights, thankful for the money to set up the perfect 'sex room.'<p>

_Damn I'm good._

But then I remembered something.

_She doesn't want to do this! Shit!_

For whatever reason, this girl seemed different. Rather than simply wanting to fuck her, I want her to like me. I want to make her happy. I heard her coming up the stairs, so I ran over and turned the lights all the way on, and switched my iPod to my 'Favorites' playlist and pretended to be doing something on the computer.

She walked in behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders. I felt a chill run all the way down my body, but I tried to seem uninterested by not turning around, still scrolling through Facebook. She began giving me a tender, amazing massage, and I rolled my head to the side, letting her hands work over my neck. Slowly her hands slid down the sides of my torso, bringing her face down with them. Once her hands were resting on the sides of my waist, I could feel her warm breath approaching my ear, and I tilted my head even more to grant her access for whatever she was going to do.

"So, you're ignoring me now?" I heard her whisper in my ear. She began kissing down on my neck and onto my shoulder. She was kissing me hard, sucking, slightly biting down. I gasped and brought in a huge, loud breath. She spoke again.

"Good to know I finally have your attention."

She continued her assault on my neck and I felt her hands slide down into my lap and onto my thighs, painstakingly slowly, they slid towards the inner part of my thighs and I leaned back and into her, wrapping an arm behind me and onto the back of her head. I moaned slightly, encouraging her to continue what she was doing. She began to massage my inner thighs as she started kissing back up towards my neck.

I swiveled the chair around, but didn't get up. She was standing there, looking down at me with more lust in her eyes than I had ever seen before.

* * *

><p><em>[earlier, in the bathroom]<em>

I walked in, shut and locked the door, and leaned back into it, letting out a huge breath I had been holding in. I just needed a moment to think and to breathe.

_Why am I doing this? I could have a free car! I don't have this girl's money. I can't just get my rich aunt to buy me one! I need this car! Besides, my parents will KILL me if I lose our ability to use our own beach house on a bet because I couldn't keep it in my pants._

I walked over to the counter and rested my hands on it, staring at myself in the mirror. I closed my eyes, but all I saw were her eyes and her lips.

_God I want to kiss her again_.

It was true. I have been with a lot of women. A LOT, but I've never had a kiss like I had with her. It was soft, heated, passionate, just... just perfect.

_I have to have more of her_.

I started replaying the bet I made with Quinn in my head.

_She forbade anything below the waist._ _Okay, I can do this. I can make out with her, and hold her and feel her. I don't have to have sex with her. I can do this._

I splashed a little cold water on my face, reapplied my lip gloss, inhaled and exhaled one more big breath and made my way up the stairs.

When I finally found her room, I walked in and she was at her computer. I made my way over to her, but with her hair brushed to one side like it was, her neck and upper back were completely exposed.

_Damn. Even the back of her neck is turning me on_.

I walked over to her and rested my hands on her shoulders, slowly massaging her. When she didn't respond after a few moments, I lowered my mouth to her neck and whispered to her, sucking at nipping at her neck as I let my hands roam the sides of her torso. She stopped clicking with the mouse, obviously paying attention now. She shifted her body around, and eventually spun around to face me.

_She is so gorgeous_.

She just stared up at me, and I stared down at her. I froze, not quite sure what to do. Then she rolled the chair the extra foot towards me, placing one of her strong legs on either side of me. She pulled me into her by my ass and began kissing my stomach through my shirt. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, savoring the feeling of her lips so close to where I really wanted them.

_No, I have to be good!_

I put one hand under her chin, pulled her to her feet and into another kiss. This one was filled with more lust and desire than the others, and I felt myself begin to grow wet again-forget the fact that her hands were simply on my back.

Without breaking the kiss, she started walking me back towards the bed until I felt it on the back of my legs. Very carefully, she laid me down and kneeled over me, straddling me.

_Oh god, this is going to go poorly. And by poorly, I mean that this is going to feel great._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting. My goal is to update about once a week, and this definitely took longer than that. However, where the first chapter was very physical, this is meant to be more emotional, and that was harder to write than I anticipated. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for the lovely comments! Please keep leaving your feedback!**

* * *

><p>I hovered over her, looking down at her glossy, pink lips. She licked them and her eyes flicked with desire. I took each of her hands and pulled them slowly up over her head, holding them there by her wrists while I lowered myself to kiss her again. Each kiss was deeper and slower, yet somehow more frantic at the same time. She pulled her arms against my grasp, and I couldn't help but smile into the kiss as she resisted, until she turned her face to the side to speak.<p>

"God, you are _killing_ me, Santana."

I smiled again and started placing light kisses on her throat while speaking through them.

"And… why… is that… Britt?" I asked, innocently, knowing full well what she meant.

She groaned as I sucked a little harder on the side of my neck, "I just want to touch you, but you're being, ohhhh, ugh, you're being such a teeeeease."

She drug out that last word as I grinded my hips down into hers, applying more and more pressure to her neck and collarbone, and still holding her struggling arms above her and out of the way.

"Hmmm," I hummed into her neck and felt her shiver under me, "if I recall correctly, I'm not the one saying that _this_ can't happen tonight." I emphasized the '_this'_ by grinding down onto her again. I could feel her body react and move with every movement I made.

She let out a long, exasperated groan, and with a force of strength I didn't know she had, she pulled her hands free and cupped my face, pulling me towards her in a desperate kiss, and then ran her hands down my shoulders to my back, to my hips, to my ass, pulling me towards her with every grasp. Suddenly, she flipped us, surprising me as she crawled up my body, never letting her lips leave mine. Her hands slipped out from behind my back and grasped my cheeks and neck, like she'd die if I stopped kissing her. I'd never felt more wanted. I'd never felt like I _needed_ someone the way I needed her to never, ever stop touching me.

We continued like this for a while, kissing each other on the lips, neck, ears, collarbone, letting our hands wash over each other, leaning into the others' curves and movements. She so quickly anticipated my movements, and yet surprised me with hers. Just when I thought I was figuring her out, she would touch me harder when I expected her to ease up, or kiss further down, when I expected her to come back to my lips. She was driving me insane and turning me on in a way I couldn't remember ever feeling before. I wanted more. I slipped my hands further up the back of her shirt, massaging all of her tight muscles on the way, until I was up high enough to start pulling the shirt over her head. She broke away from the kiss just long enough to slip her top over her head, but her lips immediately came crashing back down on mine.

Her hands found the strip of skin between my shirt and jeans, and slid her hands along the sides of my torso, dragging her nails as she moved back down. She crossed over my stomach, feeling every inch of my abs, like she had to memorize it.

"Let me take it off," I managed to breathe out after long minutes of excruciatingly slow kissing and touching.

Reluctantly, she lifted off of me, and started pulling my top over my head, tossing it to the side. She instantly put her hands back on my stomach, tracing patterns like before, and staring intently.

She moved her fingers up my chest, until they reached the bottom of my bra, tracing around the bottom of the underwire, and then moving to the top of the bra, tracing down the insides of my breasts along the edge of the intrusive fabric. Her eyes were intense with lust as she scanned down my almost bare top half. She took her bottom lip in her teeth, pulling and stretching it in her own mouth. I was absolutely mesmerized. I relished in the moments she took, sitting on top of me, straddling my hips, because it gave me a better look at her as well. Her blond hair hung loosely around her face, messy while still so incredibly sexy. Her abs were more toned that I had even realized, and I could see her muscles stretch and contract beneath her skin. It was elegant, but aggressive and strong at the same time.

_I have never been with someone who captivated me like she does._

After drinking her in, I unconsciously reached my hands up to the small of her back, tugging her back down on top of me, but she resisted.

"I want to keep looking at you." She spoke so softly I almost couldn't hear her. I looked into her eyes, and they had transformed. In place of the lustful blue ocean before, her eyes looked genuine and curious and in awe. I lay there, exposed, while she continued to brush her fingertips over my body. After another minute or two passed, she spoke again.

"You are so beautiful."

My breath caught in my throat, and her eyes finally locked with mine. My entire body was engulfed in a chill that spread from my spine to the tips of my toes and the top of my head.

It was true that I am an attractive woman. The people I slept with, and the people that wanted to sleep with me, constantly called me "hot" and "sexy" and use other carnal, sexual descriptions. But it struck me that I couldn't recall ever being called "beautiful" before.

Before I could respond, Brittany had lain back on me, kissing me more gently and sensually than before. There was less urgency than earlier, but it was still just as passionate.

* * *

><p>As I kissed her, I tried to relay all that I was feeling, all of my emotion, and transfer it to Santana. I wanted her to understand that this wasn't just a lustful, hormone-driven hook-up. Or at least, I didn't want it to be.<p>

I saw the way she reacted as I called her "beautiful," as if she was experiencing some revelation about herself.

_How could that be? How could someone so utterly breathtaking be unaware of how beautiful they are?_

The entire time we lay in her bed, feeling each other, kissing and licking each other, I grasped to the bet in the back of my mind. I knew I couldn't sleep with her tonight. My family would never forgive me if they couldn't use our vacation house this summer. But as the night progressed, my feelings changed. Initially, I was so turned on, and was having to fight every instinct in my body to not jump her and strip off all her clothes. I held back because of the bet, and because I had to create a boundary at some point, or else there would be no turning back. However, as I felt her on top of and beneath me, I felt a passion that I hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. I found myself slowing down and pulling away naturally, wanting to savor every touch and every shift. When I felt her pull up on my shirt, I shuddered, and felt vulnerable, but in the best possible way. It wasn't that I wanted her any less—quite the opposite—it was that this felt so raw and new that I wanted it to last in a way I never had before.

"Let's stop." Santana's words startled me. I looked into her eyes, and I'm sure she saw my confusion.

"No, no, not like that. Trust me," she paused and looked me up and down, "I am _loving_ this. But you said you didn't want to do this tonight, so I don't want to take it any further. I… I want tonight to be perfect for you."

She spoke to me softly, hesitantly, as if she were surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth. I slid to the side, keeping one knee draped over her leg, and pulled her towards me, so that we were laying on our sides, facing each other. She smiled and wrapped her arm around my bare waist, pulling me further into her and resting her forehead on mine.

"I don't usually do this, you know." She confessed.

"Do what, exactly?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hear her answer, but my curiosity had gotten the best of me.

She chuckled a little bit before smiling and answering my inquiry. "I usually don't bring someone home just to cuddle."

"Oh really?" I smirked. "Well, I usually don't say 'no' to someone as hot as you." It came out before I could stop it, but the way I felt her fold into me made me happy I had said it.

We lay like that for moments longer, and I ran my fingers up and down her side. I felt goose bumps rise under my touch, and I quickly reach down to pull the covers over us. She pulled her head back so we could actually _see_ each other's face once again. She smiled, subtly, just barely pulling the corners of her lips up. Normally, I would think a smile like this was disingenuous—almost sarcastic. But there was something so earnest about the way she was looking at me. It took my breath away. I placed my hand at the base of her jaw and pulled her in for another long kiss.

"Thank you, for being so sweet to me tonight. I'm sorry it wasn't what you were hoping for." I whispered.

She looked at me, confused. "Britt, tonight was more than I could have hoped for. I… you know… like I said, I don't normally do this. I usually have, well," she blushed, "_another_ reason for bringing a girl home. But you made your intentions very clear, and I told you that we didn't have to do anything you didn't want to do. I meant that."

"So why did you bring me home, then? Why not go back into the bar and use those moves to get one of those other girls to come home with you?"

She gave me a devilish grin and squeezed my side quickly, "You think I've got moves?" She lifted an eyebrow at end of the question, and I couldn't help but laugh at her.

"Well, I've seen better. But you're pretty hot, so it didn't take much," to which she laughed back along with me.

"Good to know, Britt. Good to know." She leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and it took me off guard. The kiss wasn't long, and it wasn't sensual. I was just _natural_. Like we'd been doing it for years. Like it made the most sense in the world for us to be lying here, half naked, laughing with and kissing each other. And it took me back to my original question.

"Okay, Ms. Sarcastic, but seriously. Why was tonight so good, then?"

The wheels were turning in her head. Finally, she answered. "I don't know, really. There is just something different about you. Something drew me to you. And by the time you said you didn't want to sleep with me tonight, I was already hooked. At that point, I had to have more, even if it wasn't as much as I wanted."

I smiled, and I could tell she was proud of her answer. "Well, I'm glad that's the case. I'm glad I came back with you. I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to stop myself, so thank you for doing the stopping for me."

"Can… can I ask you about that? I mean, you don't have to have a reason, and even if you do, you don't have to tell me, but you said you 'don't usually say no to girls like me,' and I was just wondering if there was a reason for, I mean… did I do something wrong?"

She was stuttering and nervous and it was absolutely adorable. But it shook me. I hadn't planned on telling her about the bet, but I couldn't let her think it was her. So I took a deep breath.

"No, no, nothing like that, Santana. You're going to think I'm so weird."

"Hah! No I won't. Well, unless it _is_ something really weird. But I'll try not to judge." She winked at me.

"Okay, well, you remember my friend Quinn that you met at the bar?" She nodded. "Well, yesterday, she was giving me a hard time about… about my nighttime habits." She grinned at me. "And, well, she said that I, I basically didn't understand how to say 'no.' When I insisted that I _could_ if I wanted to, she challenged me."

"What do you mean, 'challenged' you?"

I laughed quietly to myself, and continued the story. "Well, she has this black BMW convertible that I've always had my eye on, and she's never let me drive it. And my family has a beach house on an island in South Carolina that she is _in love_ with. So… she suggested that we bet on the right to the two for the summer." I paused and looked up at her, gauging her reaction.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. HOLD UP. You bet her that you would not have sex?"

"Basically, yeah."

"For how long?"

"A… a month." I cringed as I said it.

She let out a low whistle and ran her hand through her hair. She looked like she was deep in thought, but I couldn't read the look on her face.

* * *

><p><em>Well shit. Here she is, betting that she could go <em>without _sex, all while I bet Puckerman that I _would _have sex with her. Shit._

"Well, that's, an, uh, interesting bet." It came out with more disdain than I intended, and I subconsciously pulled away from her.

"Listen, Santana, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come over. You're beautiful and unbearably sexy, and under normal circumstances, I would have… well, this night would have gone _a lot_ differently, but I absolutely cannot lose my family's vacation house for the summer. They'd disown me. I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have come here…" She mumbled the last few sentences.

She rolled over, stood up, and started scouring the floor for what I assume was her shirt. I jumped across the bed and grabbed both of her wrists, turning her towards me, and looked up into her blue eyes. For a moment, I forgot why I was standing, and was completely overtaken by a feeling that I have never felt before. My knees started to buckle under me, and I felt the rush of a cold wind blow through my body, starting in my face and rushing to my toes. When I could finally focus on more than just her eyes, I realized that she was carrying a pained look on her face. She looked panicked and full of regret.

"Britt, Britt, please. Please don't leave. It's really okay. You don't have to apologize for anything. It's okay. I'm not upset, I promise."

"You didn't react at all, Santana. You turned off, completely, when I told you why I couldn't sleep with you. Look, I get it. It's stupid and weird, and you don't want to deal with waiting around for a month. It's really totally fine. I'll just leave."

She tried to turn away again, but I just gripped her arms even tighter, and tugged them towards me so she had to face me again. When she finally did, I pulled her body towards mine, and draped her arms behind my back. I cupped my right hand in her hair and the other behind her shoulder and kissed her again. I poured everything I had into that kiss. I had to show her how okay I was with it, and how I had wanted her to come home with me, no matter what. This was the slowest kiss thus far, each of us pulling the other closer with each twitch of our lips. We shifted only slightly, but each move had purpose. I wanted to tell her how okay I was, but couldn't bear the idea of breaking away from this kiss. This kiss was the most amazing I'd ever had. Between kisses, I could finally express the words that I hadn't been able to earlier.

"Brittany… please… don't leave…. Please… never… leave. It's… okay. I… don't… care. I… need… you."

She pulled away, even though I leaned further into her, desperate to keep contact with her lips.

"You need me?" She whispered.

"I… I need you to stay. I need you to not leave." I racked my brain for a way to convince her to stay when it hit me. "Besides, you promised me I'd get to wake up looking into your gorgeous blue eyes." I gave her a small smile, hoping to break the tension—both emotional and sexual.

It worked, and she looked down to the sliver of space between us, sighing. "You're right, San." I melted at the nickname. "You're right, I'll stay. If… if you're _really, really sure_ you want me to."

I smiled again and leaned in for yet another kiss. When our lips parted, I barely allowed them to separate before saying, "If you can't tell I'm serious at this point, I'm not sure if this will work."

I winked at her, so she could sense the sarcasm. She exhaled, and allowed me to pull her back towards the bed. We climbed in, and resumed the position we had earlier—on our sides, facing each other.

I couldn't remember the last time I had been so happy, and so relieved. She was going to stay, and I was going to _actually_ get to wake up with her. Usually, the 'waking up' was my least favorite part, but with her, it seemed so promising.

_Shit, the bet._

Brittany had closed her eyes, surely drifting into sleep. I started trying to recall my conversation with Puck from earlier.

_He said I couldn't get her into my bedroom_.

I looked over at the beauty next to me, and felt nothing but guilt. Sure, I had won my bet with Puck, technically. But the entire pre-text for me approaching her was as some game.

_She is so much more than a game. She's so much more than a bet. But I can't tell her that the only reason I even tried to take her home was for free drinks._

She snored, so lightly, and shifted in her sleep, twisting to her back and sleepily throwing both arms above her head. I had never taken the time to watch anyone else sleep, and for a moment, I felt like I should look away. This felt more intimate than anything I had done with the women I'd slept with. She looked so peaceful, and I knew I couldn't mess this up. I didn't care that we wouldn't have sex for a month. I just cared about making her happy.

_Just keep making her happy._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This took longer than I said, and I apologize, but I didn't get too many reviews last time, and I had some trouble with the story. The more reviews, the more motivated I am, so help me get the next chapter up! I know you're out there, I'm getting the alerts and the page views. Thanks for those who chimed in, I hope this lives up to your expectations.**

I woke up in a daze, not entirely sure where I was, or why I was there. I lifted my head slightly, looking around the foreign room. It wasn't entirely new to me to wake up in a stranger's bed, so I calmly tried to piece together the previous night.

_Quinn and I made that bet. Shit! Did I break it?_

I spun around in the bed and saw a wide eyed, beautiful smile looking up at me from the pillow on the other side of the bed.

"Startled there, Britt?" She chuckled a little under her breath.

And with that beautiful laugh, everything rushed back to me.

_Santana_.

"Heh, yeah, sorry, San. I forgot where I was for a minute."

"Yeah, I figured as much when I noticed your eyes darting around the room like they were. I've seen that mildly panicked look before."

For some reason, that comment made my blood start to boil, and I'm sure I lost the smile on my face.

"Oh, ummm, I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said that?"

"No, no, don't be ridiculous. We both know we've slept with plenty of other people before. In fact, I guess, it's _my _promiscuity that prevented us from doing what we _really_ wanted to do last night, so don't worry about it." As I said it, the words sounded logical and made plenty of sense, but I still felt my stomach churn at the thought of 'plenty' of other girls in Santana's bed.

"Honestly, Britt, I _am _getting what I really wanted last night: you're still here, and I got to wake up to you." She smiled earnestly up at me.

My demeanor softened and I lightly lay back on the bed, facing her. We smiled at each other before Santana leaned in and gave me a soft kiss and whispered, "Good morning, beautiful girl."

I melted a little inside, and instinctively kissed her again.

"Good morning, yourself." I yawned and she laughed at me.

"There's no way you're still tired."

"What? Why? What time is it? Wait… how long have you been awake?"

"It's almost noon, babe. I've been up for about two hours."

"Geez! Santana! You should have woken me up! I didn't mean to be one of those annoying girls that sleeps all day and you can never get rid of!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold it right there, babe. Who said _anything _about getting rid of anybody? I don't want you to leave… I didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful and beautiful."

She immediately turned red, and I think she regretted saying that last bit, but I loved that she did.

_Hold up there, Pierce. You don't _love_ anything, yet. Slow your roll._

"Besides," she interrupted my internal freak-out, "I made breakfast!"

She looked so proud and happy. "You did? What'd you make?"

"Well, I haven't actually finished yet, but I have everything ready to go downstairs… omelettes! I hope you like eggs. I have a ton of different things I could put in yours. Wanna come down to the kitchen and see?"

"Yummm, I love omelettes!"

_There you go again. STOP IT._

"Okay, great, baby. Here," she looked around the room on the floor, before walking over to her dresser and pulling out a tshirt and tossing it to me. "You may put a shirt back on to eat if you'd like, not that I'm minding the view or anything." She winked, turned on her heel, and headed out the door and down the stairs to her kitchen.

It was the first time that morning I'd realized that I still didn't have a shirt on, which was pretty embarrassing. I tugged on the thinning tshirt and looked in the mirror. It was a Chicago Cubs shirt that was probably old enough to be her mom or dad's old shirt. It looked pretty cute on me, though, and didn't quite come down far enough on my torso to hit the top of my jeans. I looked up to my hair and frowned. I had a very unfortunate case of bed head.

After running my fingers through my hair for a few minutes, I heard Santana from the kitchen.

"Come on, Britt! Everything's ready to go! You look beautiful, remember?"

_How did she know what I was doing? This girl…_

I descended the stairs into the kitchen, and my eyes popped when I saw all of the food across the countertop. She had prepped everything I could possibly ever want for an omelette: ham, turkey, breakfast sausage, bacon, mushrooms, spinach, bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, broccoli, and at least four different kinds of cheeses.

"Santana, this looks… amazing."

"Wait till you taste it. Omelettes are kind of my specialty."

I frowned slightly at the thought. How many girls before me had she cooked breakfast for? I looked over towards her behind the stove where she was rolling a pan around to spread the eggs. She definitely didn't see my face drop, so I didn't want to ruin the moment, even if it was a moment she'd had with dozens of girls before me.

_Dozens? More than dozens? Ugh._

"So what would you like, Britt?" She had a huge, genuine smile across her face, and I couldn't help but return it.

I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her from behind, placing my left hand on the front of her hip and resting my head on her shoulder while I used my right hand to point to ingredients.

"Hmm… I'll take some mushrooms, and tomatoes, and onions, and feta cheese. No, wait, mozzarella cheese." I paused. "Yeah, that's it. Wait, can I just have a piece or two of bacon on the side?"

She chuckled a little bit, "Of course you can. What Brittany wants, Brittany gets!"

"Oh, I like the sound of that!" I squeezed her into me slightly, and she set her spatula down and spun around in my arms, throwing hers over my shoulders.

She placed a few tiny, sweet kisses on my lips and then pulled back and looked me in the eyes.

"I know this may sound absurd, since it's barely been 12 hours since we met, but I really, really, really like _this_." On the 'this,' she pointed one finger around the kitchen, and though I knew what she was referencing, I decided to give her a hard time.

"Breakfast?" I smiled to show her my sarcasm.

"Breakfast with _you_. With you in _my shirt_, especially."

I kissed her again, hard, but quick, and then pulled away. "Good, me too, San. But, you better pay attention before you burn my omelette!"

She jumped around and frantically grabbed the pan off the stove, even though the eggs were nowhere near danger of burning.

She looked over to me and saw the goofy smile on her face, and she scrunched her nose at me in a sarcastic grin.

"Very funny, Britt. Verrrry funny."

"I thought so!" We both laughed, and then the room fell into a comfortable silence while she carefully made our omelettes and I watched from the other side of the kitchen bar. When the food was almost ready, I decided I had to ask her about what was bothering me.

"Santana, can I ask you something? I'm not mad, and I want you to tell me the truth, I just… I'm just curious."

She looked at me, concerned, and softly said, "You can ask me absolutely anything you want."

"Okay… do you do _this_ often?"

She was confused.

"This… making breakfast, teasing, flirting, the next morning? I mean, it's totally okay if you do, I was just wondering because…"

"No, baby. I really don't. I can't remember the last time I made breakfast for a girl that had slept over, actually."

She had a serious, but sweet look on her face. I could tell that she was being honest with me, and I internally exhaled.

"Okay, just curious."

I don't know why, particularly, but I believed her. I had no reason not to at this point. Shortly after our omelettes were done we carried our plates and mugs of coffee to her dining room. I sat down, and instead of sitting across from me, she pulled the chair around to the side and sat next to me. She must have seen the confused look on my face.

"I want to be closer to you." She gave me the biggest smile.

Breakfast continued for a while, conversation flowing easily as we ate the eggs, sipped coffee, and eventually, just turned full on towards each other because there was nothing left to consume. Santana asked me about Quinn, and about my family, and about my life in general. It seemed so natural, and she seemed so genuinely interested in every word that escaped my mouth. It felt as if we'd been doing this for years.

After what must have been almost two hours, Santana's phone buzzed from the kitchen counter.

"Reality check," she said.

"Yeah, I guess this had to come to an end at some point. Here, let me help you do the dishes." I stacked our plates and forks as she grabbed our mugs and we walked towards the sink. I tried to start rinsing the plates when she hip-checked me to the side. "No ma'am, my guests don't do housework. Just sit over there and keep me company."

I started to protest, but the look in her eyes and grin on her face warned me against it.

"You can read me that text I just got, though." She plunged her hands into a sink full of soapy water, scrubbing the pan she cooked the omelettes in.

I slid the lock on the screen and hit the message indicator.

* So, what's the deal? Who's buying? –P *

I read it aloud, and Santana dropped the pan into the sink and froze before grabbing a towel to dry her hands on and lunging for the phone. She was ghost white and I could have sworn she was shaking, but I just stood there, watching her frantically read the text.

"What's the matter? An ex?" I asked, trying to add some levity to the situation.

"Uh, no, it's just… ummm, it was Puck." She finally spat out.

"That guy from the bar with the mohawk?"

"Yeah."

"So what's with the freak-out routine? Are you sleeping with him?" I asked her directly before mumbling to myself, "I'm so confused."

Santana set the phone down and closed the gap between us, grabbing the back of both of my arms, and then sliding her hands down to meet mine. "No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just that… ummm… Puck can just be really crass sometimes. I didn't want you to read him say anything offensive."

"Ooooo-kay…" I was still confused.

"I was just, uh, afraid that he'd say something inappropriate about you."

"Okay, why would you think that? And who is buying what?"

"Um, he just has a tendency to say things like that when I take a girl home with me. And you don't need to be hearing that."

_I still don't get it. Is she hiding something from me? She's acting so weird._

"Okay, I get that, Santana, but who is buying what? You aren't answering my question."

"Oh, that, that's nothing. A lot of times when we go out, we just alternate who buys for the night. It's easier than both constantly running a tab at ever bar."

I looked at her for a moment. "Oh, okay."

_That makes sense._

I looked at my own cell phone and realized it was just after 2:00pm. Surely Quinn was wondering why she hadn't heard from me yet today.

_She's probably making party plans for my summer home. Too bad, blondie._

Just then, my phone vibrated in my hand, and I already knew it was from Quinn.

* Hey, summer-homeless, meet me at The Bean in thirty? *

"Looks like I'm not the only one being beckoned," Santana chimed in.

"Yeah, that was Quinn. She wants me to meet her at our coffee shop."

"Oh, okay. Well…" Santana looked down at her feet, "you'll at least leave me your number before you go, right?"

She was smiling, but clearly worried. I started to respond, but she cut me off.

"And before you ask…" she closed the space between us and quickly pressed her hand on my lower back, pulling me to her, and lightly brushed my cheek with her other hand, "no, I _never_ ask girls for their numbers the next day."

She stood up on her tiptoes and leaned towards me, kissing me passionately. She broke away. "Nope." Another kiss. "This is not the norm for me. It's just," another kiss, "you." Another kiss.

She pulled away, and I couldn't help but notice how satisfied and adorable she looked. I didn't want to leave her.

"Wait, I have an idea." I blurted out.

"Okay?"

"Why don't you call Puck, and you two come with me to meet Quinn?"

"Ummm, to get coffee?"

I laughed a little at her, "Yeah, baby, I mean, clearly you drink it," I said, nodding to our mugs from earlier.

She smiled her addictive smile again.

_I had her._

"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind us crashing your party."

"I'd prefer it." I kissed her again.

"Then absolutely; I wouldn't miss it."

_Even though I still thought she was hiding something, I couldn't help myself. I needed her with me. I needed her near me. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: So, this chapter is back to switching between POVs, so hopefully it's obvious what is going on. If that ever gets confusing, please do let me know in the reviews. **_

_**As usual, thank you for all the wonderful reviews. They really make my day to hear what you guys like about the story. Plus, getting your feedback helps me formulate the coming chapters a little bit. I hope you'll keep coming back and reading this and my other fic, "Something New for Us Both." Please recommend them on your blogs, Tumblrs, etc! Thanks, readers.**_

After quickly showering, separately, Brittany and I had gotten dressed, dried our hair, and were ready to go in record time. She had texted Quinn back, letting her know that Puck and I were joining, and Puck was all too eager to see me with a girl the day after. I needed to find some time to get him alone though.

_He can't let slip about our bet._

I didn't know why, but I didn't want Brittany to know about Puck and I's bet. I was even willing to just give it up, and not hold Puck to it, if it meant she didn't find out. For some reason, I just thought she'd think less of me.

_Or less of herself_.

I wasn't sure what was worse. I couldn't bear the thought of her thinking the only reason I had approached her and initially hit on her was for a few lousy free beers. Truth is, I would have approached her even if it meant _I _had to pay _Puck_ money. She was that magnetic.

We walked out the front door and she surprised me as she stopped by the driver's side door and opened it for me. I couldn't help by smile, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as I slid into the seat and nodded at her to close the door. She skipped around to the passenger's side and got in.

"Do you know where The Bean is?"

"Yeah, definitely. I've never been, but my gym is across the street so I see it all the time."

"I should have known you were a gym rat. You don't get that body without a little work." She winked.

I could feel heat rise up through my body, undoubtedly settling into my cheeks in a blush.

"Yeah, well, Ms. Abs-a-lot, you're pretty damn fit yourself."

She giggled a little, "Thanks, it's from dancing, mainly."

She had told me all about her dancing and cheerleading days over breakfast, and I had already figured that out, but the confirmation was good, too.

_And I didn't mind being reminded of her body._

I pulled out of the driveway and towards the coffee shop, mindlessly singing along with whatever Top 40 station was on the radio when I caught Brittany's gaze.

"Hah, did I do something? Why are you staring at me?"

"You have a really great singing voice. You know that, right?"

"Well I know I'm not tone-deaf, if that's what you mean. But I'm definitely no pro."

"No, Santana, I'm serious. You have a _really_ good voice. It's really raspy and soulful. And sexy."

I glanced over for a moment to gauge her sincerity, and her eyes told me that she fully believed what she was saying.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Has no one ever told you that before?"

"Huh. I don't know if I've ever sung for anyone before."

"You know, you're pretty greedy," Brittany said, abruptly.

"Wha?" Did she just say that?

"I mean, you're a great cook, an amazing singer, and so, so super sweet, but you keep all of that to yourself. It seems like you've never really shared yourself with anyone else. That makes me sad."

She finished her thought as I pulled into a parking spot at The Bean, and I shifted the car into park, turning towards her as I did. She was looking at me again, but I couldn't quite place the expression on her face. Sadness? Pity?

_Good God, please say she doesn't pity me._

"Yeah, well… I'm just a private person, I guess."

"But you're sharing these things with me, and we just met last night."

She looked so confused, and I didn't have an answer for her.

_Why am I doing all this for her? I didn't even get laid last night. I just took her home to win a bet with Puck._

I knew it wasn't true. I knew there were a million reasons why this girl was different, and I couldn't really deny the electricity between us. It was something I had never felt before, and I wasn't sure what it meant, but I knew I needed to have it. I couldn't let it go. But it terrified me that I was opening up to her so easily.

_I need to slow this down. Walls up, Lopez. You don't know her intentions._

"Hello? Earth to Santana." I looked up at her face, "Where'd you just go? Did I say something wrong?"

"Uh, no, no, it's nothing." I lied. "Let's go inside and meet our friends. That's Puckerman's car over there, so he's already here."

With that, I flung open the car door a little too quickly, and leapt out of the car. I was suffocating on my own confusion, and I needed fresh air where I couldn't smell her intoxicating smell. I needed to clear my brain. We met at the front of the car and approached the coffee shop door together. She reached for the handle and stepped aside, holding the door open for me. As I passed her, I was hit with the flowery scent of her shampoo and perfume tangling together in the air around her. I couldn't breathe again. I stopped just short of the threshold of the coffee shop, held the door open from the inside and turned to her.

"Here, you go on in, I see Puck over there in the corner. I just remembered I needed to pick up something. I'm just gonna run across the street to that drug store. I'll be back before you know it."

I painted on the best smile I could, but I could read in her eyes that she didn't believe me. Luckily, I was saved by an approaching Quinn, who strolled up behind Brittany and bumped her to the side with her shoulder.

"What's the deal, ladies? Are we just going to stand in the doorway, or are we going to get cozy inside?" She quipped.

"I was just telling Brittany that I'd be right back. You guys get comfortable with my buddy Puck over there, and I'll be back in five. I promise he won't bite."

And before they could protest or ask any questions, I turned on my heel and started practically speed walking to the drug store.

_I just need a minute to think. I just need a minute away._

I could feel Brittany's stare boring into the back of my head as I looked to the side before crossing the street. And then, just as quickly, I felt it disappear, and I knew they must have finally gone inside.

* * *

><p>Quinn gave me a quizzical look and I just shrugged my shoulders, trying to play it off. But, truthfully, I didn't understand what had just happened with Santana.<p>

_Did I say something wrong? Why was she shutting down like that?_

We weaved our way through the tables until we arrived at the booth occupied by the mohawked patron.

"Hi, you're Puck, right? Brittany." I stuck out my hand towards him, and he quickly looked up from his menu and jumped up, shaking my hand and looking me in the eye.

"Hey Brittany, yeah, I recognize you from the bar last night." He looked behind me, and then towards the door. "Um, aren't you missing something?"

"Oh yeah, Santana said she had to run to the drug store or something. She'll be right back."

Again, I tried to make it sound as normal as possible, but I was pretty sure my cover was blown and the look of concern was plastered over my face.

"Oh, and this is my best friend, Quinn. Quinn, Puck. Uh, Puckerman, umm, I'm sorry, what is your real full name?"

He laughed a hearty laugh. "My real name is Noah Puckerman, but no one calls me Noah except my parents. My friends just call me Puck."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Noah." Quinn said. I saw a half smile cross Puck's face at her use of his first name, but he didn't correct her. I knew Quinn well enough to know that she wouldn't call him Puck until she actually felt like she'd become his friend. She was weird about nicknames like that.

After the introductions, we all sat down in the booth, Quinn scooting in across from Puck, and me at her side. I kept glancing towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of Santana crossing the street in our direction again, but the view was mostly blocked by columns and other tables.

We made small talk for a few minutes, but kept getting interrupted by Puck's cell phone buzzing as it vibrated on the table. It must have been someone important, because he kept furiously typing responses to the text messages he was receiving. It was slightly annoying, but it gave Quinn and I a chance to chat a bit, even if we couldn't exactly talk about what we both wanted to discuss: Santana.

A server came by and took our coffee orders, and Puck ordered a large black coffee, no sugar, for Santana.

"She likes her coffee like she likes her men," he started, "bitter and black."

I groaned at the overused joke, but he held a shit-eating grin like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, so I finally chuckled audibly. More at him than the joke itself, but he seemed content.

"So how long have you known Santana?" I finally asked, broaching the subject we had all been avoiding.

He shifted in his seat as he began. "We've known each other for about five years now. We met just before high school ended, when she transferred from her old high school to mine in New Jersey, and then we both moved into the City for college at Fordham. We actually lived together the first two years, so we're super close."

"Don't give them any kinky ideas, Puckerman. There's a line we've never crossed, and never will."

We all jerked our heads to the figure that was sliding into the booth across from me, smiling as big as she ever had.

"Well thanks for joining us," I said, a little too curtly.

"Sorry about that. I told my mom I'd pick something up for her, and I was afraid I'd forget."

"What'd ya get?" Puck asked her.

"Ummm, more, more toothpaste. She was out."

It definitely didn't sound like she was telling the truth, but after the way she wigged out earlier, I wasn't going to push her.

After a few more awkward moments, conversation started to flow, and we all were getting comfortable with one another when Quinn finally jumped the gun and went _there_.

"So, Santana, help me out with something here." She paused and gave me a mischievous grin while looking at me in her peripheral, "You two slept together last night, right?"

"QUINN!" I yelled and smacked her upper arm with the back of my hand, causing her to pull her other hand over to rub it.

I was mortified.

Puck was dying laughing, and Santana had a big grin on her face before reaching across the table and taking my hand in hers. Her touch burned slowly, travelling up the length of my arm to my face, causing my cheeks to burn and an involuntary smile to cross my face, even though I was furious with Quinn for asking that in front of her.

"Well, if you want to get technical, we did _sleep_ together last night. But since I know you're asking me whether we _had sex_ or not, no, we did not. I'm a lady, after all."

Puck snorted and almost spit his coffee out at that statement, to which Santana gave him a mock offended look and we all laughed.

"Damnit, Britt, _how_ were you able to contain yourself? I mean, look at her! She's _**hot**_. I'd have sex with her."

"Ummm, no you would not," I said, all too quickly.

This last outburst caused everyone to look over at me suddenly, Santana's one eyebrow arching up with curiosity.

"I mean, umm, well, you don't like girls. So, you wouldn't."

"Don't worry, Britt. A little possessiveness and jealousy is hot," Santana said as she winked at me.

I knew I was blushing again, but I couldn't help it. Whatever weirdness has occurred earlier had vanished and Santana was back to being sexy and flirty, and totally, completely natural with me.

After the wink, conversation slowly went back to the usual, and we all told the others what we were doing in Hoboken, New Jersey, so close, yet so far away from Manhattan. Santana was working at a marketing firm in a job that she hated in the suburbs of Jersey, but she was considering applying to law school as well; Puck was a high school gym and football coach at a school in a bad part of Newark, which is supposedly how he gets away with his ridiculous haircut as an adult. They have a hard time retaining teachers at that school, and he's good at what he does, so they let him basically do as he pleases. Quinn was living in Jersey City and getting her masters in journalism at New York University and was interning three nights a week at New York's CBS affiliate news station, which of course, I already knew. And so then I began telling the group about the dance studio I was teaching at while bartending on weekends, trying to earn the money to open my own studio. The story was really just for Puck's benefit, as Santana had heard it earlier this morning over breakfast, but she was listening just as intently as she had the first time.

"I have the space I want to rent picked out. It's in the Lower East Side and it's kind of an oddly shaped space, but I think I could use that to my advantage, and block different areas off for different purposes, with the main floor in the middle of the studio. Plus, I could move into the City, then, which I've always wanted to do."

They all nodded in agreement and the conversation fell silent for a moment before Santana spoke.

"I'd love to go see the space with you sometime." She smiled sweetly across the table.

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe we could check it out on Tuesday? I've got classes to teach all day tomorrow and then I picked up a shift tomorrow night at the bar for a girl who needed off for her Dad's birthday. But on Tuesday I'm pretty free in the late afternoon."

"Yeah, that sounds perfect." Almost simultaneously to the use of the word "_perfect_" I felt Santana tracing her foot up the inside of my leg, from my ankle to the halfway point on my calf. It was sending chills down my spine, and the look on her face said she knew exactly what she was doing to me. As if sensing that this was about to go somewhere completely different, Quinn piped up from my left.

"Oh, shit! I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I have to be at the news station in 45 minutes, and it's all the way in midtown. I better get a move-on."

"Yeah, Q, you're probably right. I haven't done anything productive, well, anything I _should_ have done all day, thanks to this one over here," I nodded my head at Santana, and she chuckled a little bit.

"Are you complaining about that? Because we don't have to…"

"No! No, Santana, I'm definitely not complaining." This time I was the one to flash a mischievous grin her way.

"Alright then, well, I guess this had to come to an end at some point. Are we all settled with the server?" Puck asked.

"Yeah, we all threw our money in a while ago, so we should be set." Quinn provided.

We got up from the booth and all made our way outside when I realized that I didn't have my car since I had left it at the bar after leaving with Santana. Quinn had to go immediately to her job, so I turned to Santana about to ask her a question when she beat me to the punch.

"Need a ride?" She smiled that million-watt smile again.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't think about that. My car is still at the bar."

"Not a problem at all!" She nodded her head towards her car as she unlocked her car with her key remote, and we both settled into the seats.

We drove the mile or so in silence except for the radio. When an Amy Winehouse song, "Back to Black," came on, Santana seemed to not be able to help herself, and she began singing again. At first, it was so softly that I wasn't sure if she was singing or just mouthing the words, but gradually, she got louder, and soon her entrancing voice filled the car as readily as Amy's did.

_And I took a troubled track_

_My odds are stacked_

_I go back to black_

_We only said goodbye with words_

_I died a hundred times_

_You go back to her and_

_I go back to, I go back to, us_

_I loved you much_

She sang most of the second chorus, totally in her own world, before remembering that she had company in the car and quickly halting the singing and glancing over towards me in the passenger's seat.

"Oh please don't stop, Santana."

She paused for a beat.

"Why couldn't you have said that last night?" She inquired with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.

"Oh, stop it. Just stop it." I joked.

"Yep. That's more along the lines of what I heard."

"Santana! Seriously!"

She was laughing with a full, hearty, gravelly laugh, and I gave her a playful shove into her door.

"Seriously, I mean it! Your voice sounds perfect on that song. That's really your wheelhouse." I paused. "Hah, Winehouse is your wheelhouse." I chuckled to myself.

* * *

><p><em>God, she really is adorable.<em> _Especially when she laughs._

I smiled at her joke and exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. Finally, I pulled into the bar parking lot, and instantly knew the light blue VW bug had to be Brittany's. I parked next to it and she looked at me funny.

"You're kind of predictable, Brittany." She laughed and nodded.

"Well, you got it right. Happy?"

"Not so much. You're about to leave me."

"Well aren't you cute?" She leaned across the center console and kissed me lightly, letting her lips linger on mine, tracing her fingertips down the side of my arm.

"I've had a really great time spending the day with you, Santana."

"Me too, Britt."

We looked at each other, and for the first time all day, it was a bit awkward. After all the talk today, we didn't know how to say goodbye to each other now.

"Here, give me your phone." Brittany commanded.

I reached into my pocket and handed her my phone, watching her dial in a number. Moments later, a phone rang, which she pulled from her purse and silenced. I started to reach for my phone, but she started typing into it, so I waited. When she was done, she smiled a huge smile my way, handed me the phone, and said, "Call me tomorrow so we can meet up on Tuesday and check out the studio."

She leaned over and planted another quick kiss on my lips, and I savored the taste, knowing it was our last kiss for the day.

She pulled away and then opened the door, leaning back in briefly with a confused look on her face.

"Did you…"

"Did I what, Britt?"

"Nothing, nevermind," she plastered a half-hearted smile, waved with two fingers, closed the door, and walked to her car.

* * *

><p><em>What was that odd taste on her lips?<em>

I had only been kissing this girl for less than 24 hours, but I felt like all of my senses had already memorized her: her taste, her smell, the sounds of her laugh and moans, the scalding chill from her touch. These sensations were already engrained in my brain, but those last two kisses were different. They tasted different. She smelled different.

_Had she been smoking?_

* * *

><p>"Hey, Puck, yeah, I just dropped her off. Thanks for being so chill at the coffee shop. I really don't want her to find out about the bet." I explained into my phone.<p>

"What's the big deal, Lopez? So you first went for her to win a bet. So what?"

"I don't know, it just feels so, so wrong. I just don't want her to know. I want her to feel like she's special and wonderful and perfect, because she is. Good God, Puck, she really is."

"So that's why you freaked out and went to the drug store to buy a pack of smokes for the first time in over two years?"

"Wha… How did you…?"

"Give me some credit, here. We both quit at the same time, but I still remember all the tricks we used to use to keep from smelling like it. I saw your gloves in your back pocket and you were chewing gum when you walked in. You forgot to put your hair up in a hat, though. It still reeked."

"Shit, I hope she didn't notice."

"What, blondie's got a rule against smoking?"

"No, I mean, I don't know. I just assume she'd hate it. She's really into dance, and…"

"Whoa, wait, she's a _dancer_? Geez, San, don't let this one get away. I'm sure her moves in bed are…"

"Watch it, Puckerman. Watch your mouth. She's not _blondie_, she's _Brittany_. And her moves in bed are none of your business."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat before Puck responded again.

"You _really_ like her, don't you? I have never seen you like this."

I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was keeping in.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

Now if I could only _let myself_ like her this way.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: You guys are AWESOME with all the reviews and alerts. Do a girl a favor… if you have a Tumblr, post about this update? And let me know in the reviews where you first found my story? Thank you, and I hope you like the update!**

I propped my ankle up on the stretch bar in front of the mirror and bent my head towards my knee, bouncing ever so lightly to stretch hamstrings. The classes were done for the day, but the three advanced classes in a row at the end of the day had taken their toll, and I knew I'd feel it in the morning. These dances the owner had me teaching were incredibly strenuous, but I needed the job, and the opportunity to build up a clientele for when I opened my own studio.

I looked at the giant bruise swelling up around my ankle.

_Yup, that's gonna smart tomorrow for sure. Way to go, dummy. _

I was demonstrating a jump for the class when I caught the reflection of the most beautiful girl in the world in the mirror in front of me. I tried to land and spin so quickly to see her, that I landed incorrectly, and had fallen flat on my ass. To top it all off, Santana wasn't even there. I had imagined her.

_You've been doing that all day. Knock it off._

Since saying goodbye the afternoon before, I couldn't stop thinking about the gorgeous Latina: her brown eyes, her puffed lips, her perfectly smooth skin. I kept picturing her in front of me, behind me, always looking at me with the same sultry smile that I had seen the day before.

_I can't wait to see her tomorrow night._

Suddenly, I felt very exposed, alone in the giant dance studio. I hated feeling so vulnerable, but I couldn't help but admit to myself that with just a few more meetings, I would soon be falling for this girl. But something still worried me. I still felt as though there was something she was hiding. Something that is holding her back.

_You're being ridiculous. You've known her for, like, a day. Get it together._

I brought my foot back to the floor, grabbed my gym bag, and headed to the locker room for a quick shower before work at the bar.

_It's going to be a long night._

* * *

><p>I carefully pulled the black, stretchy material up past my knees, my hips, my stomach, over my breasts, and slipped my arms into the holes on the sides. I tugged down the hem of the dress and smoothed it over my sides, stepping up into my shiny silver pumps. I turned towards the mirror and gave myself the once-over. My hair was perfect, dark, wavy, full locks came down over my shoulders, stopping just above the top of my chest. My silver, smoky eye make-up was flawless, and the black sleeveless dress I was wearing desperately clung to my curves in all the right places. I pulled out a tube of shimmery lip gloss from my silver clutch and reapplied until my lips had the perfect shine.<p>

_Damn girl. I'd even sleep with me._

I turned on my heel, down the stairs, and out the front door into the warm night air. I slipped in my car and headed towards the bar. I was pulling out all the stops for this date. I really, really wanted to get laid, so I was determined to convince her, even though I knew she would resist.

After about fifteen minutes, I found a metered parking spot on the street, just two blocks from my destination, Route 86. It was a jazz bar known for almost "discovering" several really good jazz bands, but I didn't frequent it very much. I took one final glance into the mirror and glided out of the driver's side door towards the bar. I heaved open the heavy wooden door and it took me a moment to adjust to the lighting, bright in contrast with the night outside. I glanced around, waiting to spot the blonde I was looking for. Finally, I saw a flirty wave from a table on the far side. She stood as I made my way over to her, pulling me in a half embrace as she laid a kiss on my cheek.

"I'm so glad you called, Santana. It's been a while."

"Yeah, Kelly, it has, hasn't it? Sorry, that's probably my fault."

I looked at her for a moment before sitting, taking her in. She looked as good as I remembered, adorned in a low-cut deep red halter and very small black mini skirt with tall black boots and her hair in a playful pony tail. She was already sipping on a cocktail—scotch, I'd guess—and as she crossed her legs when she sat, she pointedly ran her foot up the front of my shin. I grinned and sat down next to her, facing the stage where a small jazz quartet was playing.

"They're good," I began, "I see why you like this place."

"Yeah, they call themselves The Troubletones. Clever, huh?"

"Hah! Yeah, that's pretty good."

"So, Ms. Lopez. It's been, what, six months? Seven?"

I ordered a beer from the waitress and turned towards Kelly. "That sounds about right."

"So how come you never called?"

"What do you mean, _never_? I called today, didn't I?" I winked, trying to cut the tension and stray away from the uncomfortable topic of why I had never called her.

I knew why I had never called, but I also knew I could never tell her. I couldn't tell her that I actually had feelings for her and it scared the shit out of me. That I chose to run instead of continue to see her past the first few weeks. So, I had just stopped calling, and stopped answering when she did.

"Well, whatever the reason, why the change of heart tonight?"

"Does it really matter?" I asked, more coolly than I intended.

"Hmmm, I guess not. I guess all that matters is that you're here now." As she finished her sentence, she reached her hand across the table and latched onto mine, gently caressing the back of my hand with her thumb. I caught her eye and saw so many emotions there: care, kindness, hope, lust. Lust. That was the one I was looking for. I knew why I had called Kelly. She was the last girl that turned me inside out in a way even remotely comparable to the way that _other_ blonde does, even though the intensity levels don't even come close. I needed to prove to myself that Brittany was just the second coming of Kelly, and that I'd beaten these feelings once before, so I could do it again. I needed to prove to myself that I could avoid getting attached. And more than anything, I needed to get laid.

I smiled back to her, leaning into her touch, and our conversation settled into more comfortable territory. We updated each other on work and the rest of our lives, chatting away as the jazz ensemble moved flawlessly from one song to the next. Around drink three or four, Kelly's hand found my knee under the table, wrapping warm fingers around my knee, slowly moving them up my thigh as our conversation continued.

"You have such beautiful lips, you know that?" She interrupted.

"I what?" I was sure I had misheard her.

"Your lips. They're just so perfect and sexy. I realized I never told you that before, and I have no idea how long you'll stick around this time, so I want to be sure I tell you the things I never told you before."

Internally, my gut was churning, and I couldn't exactly pinpoint the feeling I was having. Regret? I didn't think so. Butterflies? I thought for a moment; definitely not. Externally, I simply smiled, and leaned in as she pulled me close to kiss me. We quickly found our old rhythm, even though the kiss was interrupted by the waitress. I silently thanked her timing.

"Another round, ladies?" She asked.

"Yes, please," I said.

"You sure?" Kelly turned towards me and leaned in, whispering, "I was thinking it was about time to get out of here."

I gulped.

* * *

><p>I had gotten to Manny's Pub twenty minutes after my shift was supposed to start, so I slunk in the back door, hoping Manny either wasn't there, or wouldn't notice. I grabbed an apron and tied it around my waist as I rounded the kitchen and opened the door to the main bar.<p>

"It's about time, Brittany."

_Shit_.

Manny was working the bar. I guess he had let John leave when I was supposed to get there, so he'd definitely noticed I was late.

"Sorry, Manny, dance was extra brutal earlier, so I had to stretch it out more than usual."

He sighed as he waved me over to the computer to show me the open tabs.

"You're lucky you got here before the rush for the hockey game."

Manny's was in the middle of downtown Newark, and the bar got a lot of traffic before and after New Jersey Devils home games.

"I know, Manny, I rushed over for that reason."

In reality, I had completely forgotten there was a game tonight, but it sounded good, and it seemed like he believed me.

I grabbed a bar towel and started wiping down the bar, followed by a round of cleaning glasses. I poured a few draft beers for regulars at the bar, without even having to ask if they wanted another one. That was one thing I loved about Manny's; I almost always knew everyone in the bar, what they drank, and how to make sure they were satisfied so they'd leave a good tip. It was definitely a "locals" bar, which made the job fairly easy. Devils' fans started trickling in, and business was picking up. Eventually, Manny had to come out of the kitchen to help me bartend because it was so crowded.

The rush passed, and before I knew it, it was almost 10:00. I had to work until probably 12:30 or 1:00, but the shift had gone by pretty quickly, so I was grateful for that.

I worked my way through the tables, making sure everyone's drinks were full while wiping off and straightening up the empty ones. While cleaning one of the tables, the notepad I use to take orders fell out of my apron, so I bent over to pick it up when I heard a low whistle.

_Great, which one of these middle-aged men am I going to have to cut off?_

I stood up and turned towards the noise, freezing exactly where I was, the notebook suspended in my hand two inches above the pocket on my apron. Standing in the doorway was the most stunning raven-haired woman I had ever seen.

_Santana_.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

_You're imagining things again, Britt._

But when I opened my eyes, she was still standing there, head cocked to one side, giving me the sweetest smile I think I'd ever seen. My insides melted down to my toes as I tried to find the right words.

"Santana. Hi." It wasn't very original, but it was all I could make my brain come up with.

"Hey, Britt. I hope you don't mind me crashing your work. I just wanted to see you."

She took a few steps towards me, clearly trying to gauge what kind of greeting I was going to give her. I was still frozen in place, wracking my brain for the right words.

_Of course it's okay you're here, Santana! You're all I've thought about all day!_

But I knew I couldn't say anything like that.

"You look… you look…" and I couldn't finish my sentence. She really did look spectacular in her black dress. She had been gorgeous the previous time I'd seen her, but nothing like now. I literally couldn't speak.

"Thank you," she said sheepishly. She finally closed the gap between us and pulled me in for a hug, leaving a light kiss on my cheek.

* * *

><p>[<em>earlier, back at Route 86<em>]

I turned back to the waitress, "No, I'd like another." I turned to Kelly, "You sure you don't want another?"

"Ummm, okay, yeah, I'll have one more." She stuttered, clearly defeated.

We threw back that one, and then ordered another, clearly to Kelly's disappointment.

We made small talk over the sound of The Troubletones and she continued to hopelessly flirt, trying to convince me to leave.

_Why aren't I leaving with her? Isn't that why I called her?_

I tried to fight it, but I knew why I was so hesitant. Every few minutes, I'd look over at Kelly, and my eyes would play tricks on me. For a split second, allowing me to see a _different _blonde. One I so badly wished I was here with, instead of Kelly.

This wasn't right, and I could feel the regret bubbling up in my chest. I wanted to be with Brittany. I wanted to see her, hold her hand, hear her voice. Sure, I had feelings for Kelly a while back, but nothing like the churning butterflies I get while just _thinking_ about Brittany. I had to see her.

I threw back my last beer, pulled out some cash, and threw it on the table. Kelly's eyes lit up.

"It's about time, Santana. My place or yours?"

"Neither." I said, curtly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you. This was a mistake."

"But you…"

"No, Kelly. It's just a 'no.' But, you do look amazing these days. Keep taking care of yourself."

And with that, I turned towards the door, hopped in my car, and drove nervously to the one person I couldn't get off my mind.

_I hope this isn't a mistake, too._

* * *

><p>I closed my eyes again, and took in another deep breath, pulling away from her and gazing into her deep brown eyes.<p>

"Wha… what are you… doing here?"

"Can I get a drink, first?" She asked, with a wink.

"Oh, putting me to work, huh?" My heart had started beating again, apparently sending the ability to speak to my brain again.

"Sor… sorry, no I didn't mean to…"

"Santana, I'm joking. Come on… sit down here."

We walked to the far end of the bar, and I pulled out the last seat for her.

"What'll it be, beautiful?" Her eyes flashed at the pet name, smiling immediately after.

"You best dark draft beer is fine."

I nodded and walked to the middle of the bar, pulling a cup out of the rack and slowly pouring her a Mc Chouffe Brown Ale. I looked over my shoulder at her as it was pouring, still unable to process the fact that she surprised me at work. Santana didn't seem like that kind of girl. And with _that dress_ on, I was pretty sure she had been somewhere else earlier in the evening.

I strutted back over with the beer, placing a coaster in front of her and the beer on top.

"So, lady, what brings you into this dive tonight?"

"Well, I heard there was some pretty good eye candy around here, was bored, and decided to check it out." She paused, "I have to say I heard correctly, too." She eyed me up and down.

"Oh, is that right huh?"

She nodded and reached across the bar, flipping my hand onto its back and tracing patterns over my palm.

"Uh huh," she barely muttered.

My spine was tingling at the feeling of my hand in hers and I knew she was going to lull me into a trance if I didn't think quickly.

"Well, glad to hear I didn't disappoint." I said with a flash of a smile as I slipped my hand from her grasp and walked back towards the main part of the bar, tending to the customers still left there. I heard her let out a long breath as I walked away, and I knew my teasing technique was going to work. Not only was it fun, but it allowed me to get some space from the brunette to get my head on straight so that I didn't forget I was at work and mount her right on the bar.

After refilling drinks and closing out a check or two, I glanced over at Santana only to see her staring daggers through me, and the realization hit that she probably hadn't taken her eyes off of me the entire time. I noticed her glass was two-thirds empty, so I grabbed another and walked ever so slowly to her side of the bar, setting it down next to the near empty glass.

"On the house," I said simply, with a slight smile.

"Oh yeah? And what did I do to deserve that?"

I thought for only half of a second, "Nothing. Yet. I'll expect back payment _later_." I winked and scooted around next to her to come from behind the bar to check on my tables. As I brushed by her, I started my fingernails at the top of her knee and slowly dragged them up her outer thigh until just under the hem of her dress. I heard her breath hitch and saw her grasp on her drink tighten. And then I walked behind her and was gone to the dining room, leaving her mumbling something under her breath.

_This damn bet will be the end of me._

* * *

><p>After our close encounter with her hand and my thigh, things went relatively smoothly for the rest of the night. Brittany tended to the ever-dwindling number of customers, coming over at every opportunity to flirt and refill my beer. I was definitely drunk by now, which I regretted since she was completely sober. When the last customer left, she came over and took the bar stool next to mine, turning my chair to face hers at the same time.<p>

"Hey," she said, softly. "I'm really glad you came here tonight. I've…"

She stopped and shook her head.

"You've what?" I asked, tentatively.

"I've… I've been thinking about you all day. Picturing you places, even. It's weird, but when you first walked in the door, I thought I was imagining you again."

She instantly blushed, likely regretting her admission, so I gently cupped her face in my hand and pulled her in for a heated kiss. We had been dancing around it all night, and in this moment, the world stood still. I felt like I was floating off the chair, spinning lazily with her in mid-air, lips and tongues intertwined with one another's. We made out for several minutes, tasting each other, her hands roaming on the tops of my thighs, barely peaking under the material on my dress, my hands tangled in impossibly soft blonde hair. Eventually, we both had to come up for air, and as our lips separated I felt my body settle back down from the floating position above us.

I was the first to speak, "I've been thinking about you, too."

The next words were words I had no intention of saying a few hours ago, but at this point, in my intoxicated state, I had no filter.

"I was on a date earlier."

"Oh, okay." Brittany said bluntly. Hurt flashed in her eyes as she leaned back and away from me, and removed her hands from their place still on my lap. The sudden loss of her warm touch gave me a chill and I reached out to her again, only to be pushed away.

"Brittany, listen to me." I said, firmly. "I was on a date, but you were all I could think of. I kept picturing you, too. Picturing you with me, because all I wanted was to be with you, look at you, smell you, kiss you. I ditched her and came straight here. I _needed_ to see you."

"Really?" she asked, incredulously.

"Really."

_Really, really._

She pulled me in for another long, heated kiss before letting me go.

"Let me finish closing up and then I'll drive you home. I can't let you drive like this; you're too drunk."

I just nodded as she stood up to wipe down the bar.

After about twenty minutes, she took off her apron and grabbed her keys.

"You ready, cutie?" She giggled.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

She took my hand and led me out the back, employee door to the parking lot. There was a strong wind and I instantly started shivering in my thin dress.

_When did it get so cold?_

We got in the car and she cranked on the heat.

"Thanks, I just got really cold."

"I can tell." She smirked, staring at my erect nipples sticking out from behind the black material.

"Brittany!" I yelled, laughing.

"What, can you blame me for looking? Those things are amazing." And she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

* * *

><p>Without realizing it, my car drove itself to Santana's huge house, pulling into the circle drive. I put the car in park and turned towards her.<p>

"Well, Cinderella, here you are."

"Are you not coming in with me?" She asked, slightly surprised.

"Umm… I don't know." I answered, honestly.

"You should," she planted a kiss on my cheek, "come up," on my neck, "with me," on my collarbone.

_Ugh. Am I? The bet!_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: First of all, I have to give my sincerest apologies for it taking SO LONG for me to update. I recently started a new job that has been more time consuming outside of the office than I anticipated. So I am really, really, really sorry. But I already have the story written out for the next chapter, so I promise I'll have it up within a week (so before the finale of Glee!)! Secondly, you guys ARE THE BEST. Thank you for so many follows, alerts, and comments. I hope you enjoy.**

_[Santana's POV]_

I walked around to her side of the car and opened the door with a little too much enthusiasm.

_God, she looks so incredible, even in her work clothes._

I pulled her out, holding her hand, and lead her to my doorway, opening it for her for the second time in three days.

"Déjà vu!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Brittany said, in jest.

"Don't be absurd," I purred, as I pulled her hips into mine, wrapping my arms around her ass and planting a long, slow kiss on her pouty lips.

"God you kill me when you do that," Brittany said, out of breath.

"Do what?"

"Kiss me like that."

So I smiled, and I kissed her like that once more.

"Yeah, just like that. You kill me. I can't breathe."

"Then come up with me and let's see what else I can manage to do for you…"

* * *

><p><em>[Brittany's POV]<em>

Before I even knew it was happening, I was being pushed against the back of her bedroom door as she shut it, shirt flying over my head and her hands down the back of my shorts, massaging the bare cheeks left free by my thong. Her lips wrapped around a sensitive part on my neck, making low, guttural sounds emanate from the back of my throat. My stomach was in knots, knowing that my brain was yelling at me to stop, while every other inch of my body stung and clung with desire to have Santana in every possible way. One of my hands gripped the back of her neck while the other snaked its way up the back of her shirt, desperate to touch every inch of skin possible.

I pushed off the door to move tangled mess of hands and lips and breathless words to her bed, but she pushed back, almost slamming me into the door. It wasn't the reaction Santana was probably hoping for, but the movement jarred me to my senses. I couldn't do this. Not like this.

"Santana, wait…" I tried to push her back, but she kept kissing me. I lost all ability to think clearly again, feeling her hands and fingers graze gently over the sides of my torso, driving me absolutely insane. Her lips moved to my collarbone, alternating between lightly biting the tender skin to licking and kissing it to soothe it immediately after. The sensations I was feeling I had never felt before, and I never wanted them to stop. I could feel my legs start to tremble underneath me, threatening to buckle, but somehow keeping me on my feet. Finally, I became astutely aware of where this was headed again, and I tried once more to create some distance between Santana and I. But she kept grabbing, and kissing, and sucking.

That's how I realized precisely how drunk she really was. Suddenly, I was completely turned off by everything she was doing. I just wanted to put her to bed and pass out.

I tried to lightly push her away again, but she grabbed on tighter.

"Come on, baby…" she slurred, "… you can't tease me like that at the bar and then truthfully say you wants to stop now…"

"Santana… get off, please." I begged, pressing my palms into her shoulders and tried to push her back, but she grabbed my arms and pushed me harder against the wall, banging the back of my head into the wall. I gasped and thought she'd jump off, but instead, she started grabbing the buttons on my shorts, unbuttoning and pulling on them all at once.

"Santana! Get…" I shoved her away and she stumbled backwards, beginning to fall, but catching herself on her bed, "… off!"

We both stood there, stunned for a moment, staring at each other wide-eyed.

"What the _actual fuck_, Britt?"

"No, don't give me that, Santana. I asked you to stop. What's gotten into _you_? You know the deal. I can't. Not for a month."

"Oh, that's bullshit, Brittany," Santana managed to mumble in her drunken stupor. "Just fake it. She'll never know the difference."

By now, Santana had walked back across the room, placing her hands on my hips and pulling me into her. For a brief moment, I got lost in her sweet smell, but snapped out of it, yet again.

"No. Not after that. Not after what you just did to me. I'm leaving," I stated, boldly. I turned and opened her bedroom door, marching downstairs to find my handbag strewn by the door.

As I reached the cold hardwood of the foyer, I heard Santana's footsteps behind me, chasing me down the stairs.

"Britt, please don't go. Please, stay. I want you to stay."

She was rambling the whole way down, and as I reached for the door handle to leave, I froze as I felt her warm body press up behind mind, arms wrapping around my waist.

"Britt, please. _Please._"

I spun around in her arms, facing her with only inches between our eyes.

"I need to leave, Santana. I can't do this. You can call me tomorrow if you still want to go to the dance studio."

"Ungh!" A frustrated Santana grunted as she collapsed down into a sitting position on the stairs.

"Fine, if you really want to leave, just go. Get out of here."

I could tell she didn't mean it, but at that point, I was too hurt to fight her. So I left.

The drive home was maddening. Between wanting her, sexually, and wanting her, emotionally, I had forgotten that I was supposed to be looking out for myself and my own interests in the process.

_You can't get involved with someone like this right now, Britt. You just can't._

I knew my subconscious was right about everything, and I knew I couldn't continue to be tempted by her like this. But there's something different about Santana Lopez. There's something different indeed.

* * *

><p><em>[Santana's POV]<em>

I sat there on that step like that, staring at my hands, slowly moving them towards my face as a cradle to rest my weary head on.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up, curled up on the bottom of the stairs. As I stood up to head towards my room, I wiped down my face with the palms of my hands.

_Are those tears on your face?_

As much as I hated to admit it, I had been crying in my sleep. I was now fighting off a series of emotions that I couldn't remember ever feeling in this capacity before. Sadness—grief—heartbreak. I didn't know how to handle any of it. All I knew was that I had a killer headache and that it was time to go to bed.

And so, I did.

* * *

><p><em>[Next Day-Tuesday]<em>

_[Brittany's POV]_

I got to the dance studio at my normal time, just after 7 o'clock. I completed my warm-up routine, and taught my first class, both without incident.

I really couldn't get the scene from the previous night out of my head. What would have happened if I had stayed?

Scratch that. I knew what would have happened, that's why I had to leave.

_But what happened to Santana?_

She hadn't been that aggressive before. Was that really what she was like? It was dawning on me how short of a time I'd actually known this girl—this woman—who I was already falling so incredibly hard for. I had known her for, what three days so far?

_But she had been so gentle and caring before_.

Before she got drunk. That was the difference.

_She got drunk, and then she got violent and really uncomfortably pushy._

I couldn't ever truly **be** with someone like that. Even if it was only part of the time. Last night had been somewhat scary, really. I got out of there as quickly as I could.

"Hellooooooo, Earth to Brittany. Are you in there, Britt?"

I was snapped out of my daydream by my boss, Mike. He was a tall, muscular Asian man, about my age. He owned the studio and was one of the best dancers I'd ever met. He was a nice guy, but we definitely weren't "friends" necessarily. We got along well-enough as co-workers, and that was that.

"Uhh, sorry Mike. What's up?"

"Your 9 o'clock private is here. You ready?"

"Oh, oh yeah, totally."

_Crap, I forgot about my private lesson today._

"Back to work," I mumbled.

* * *

><p><em>[Santana's POV]<em>

I rolled from my side to my stomach, burying my face in the pillows, trying to shield my eyes from the sunlight streaming in through the slats in my blinds. I could feel my head throbbing behind my eyes, and knots churning in my stomach, and I knew that this hangover was going to be one for the record books. Without opening my eyes, I slowly got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom, feeling the edges of the door frames and the walls as I went. Once inside, I shut the door and kept the light off, opening my eyes for the first time. I looked into the mirror and even in the darkness I could see what a mess I was. My hair was all pressed into the side of my head and matted in knots. My makeup was literally smeared all over my face, with distinctive tear tracks running down each of my cheeks. That's when I remembered that I had woken up crying on the steps. I turned on the cold water, put my hands on either side of the sink, and lowered my face directly under the stream of running water.

After that had sufficiently woken me up, I stumbled out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, walking immediately towards the coffe pot. I grabbed a Keurig cup and shoved it into the slot, brewing my dark, rich coffee. Then I opened the fridge and pulled ou the ingredients for a banana-strawberry-spinach smoothie, my own special hangover cure. I blended it together, using coconut water to thin it out, and poured a glass of the green concoction. I snagged my mug of coffee and went to the couch, slouched down, and tried to piece together my night.

_I went out with Kelly, then ditched her for Brittany._

One of my better mvoes, if I did say so myself.

_Then Brittany drove me home, and I invited her upstairs. We made out… against the door… OH GOD._

"Oh GOD," I said aloud, to no one.

The realization of what I had done slowly crept in and washed over my body, and the feelings of guilt and sadness mingled with the growing nausea of my hangover, leading me to bolt to the bathroom. I threw up several times—luckily all in the toilet bowl—before I felt it was safe to return to the couch.

After sitting there for a few minutes, reflecting on what happened, I came ot the conculsion that she would want nothing more to do with me.

_If she can move past it, she'll call me._

It dawned on me that I had offered to go with her to see the space she wanted for her new dance studio today—Tuesday.

_That won't be happening now._

I was so embarrassed, so disappointed in myself. I had never done anything like that before, except in situations in which I knew a girl **wanted** me to be aggressive and dominant. I'd never **forced** myself on someone like that.

"I'm a monster," I said, softly. And with that, I called into work to let them know I was on the way, just running late because of a stomach bug, and I hopped into the shower.

* * *

><p><em>[Brittany's POV]<em>

I finished my classes, showered in the locker room, and packed up for the day.

"You can take tomorrow and Thursday off, if you'd like." Mike said as I was walking out.

I must have given him a quizzical look because he continued.

"You just seem really distracted today. So if there's something you need to take care of, I can cover your classes for the next few days."

"Oh, ummm, maybe? Can I think about it for the rest of the day? I'm not exactly sure what I need to be doing right now."

"Yeah, sure. Just gimme a call tonight or first thing in the morning."

"Okay, thanks, Mike."

I walked out to my car and instinctively drove it to the space I wanted to rent for my future studio.

_Santana was supposed to meet me here today to see it._

I got out of the car and buzzed the super's buzzer next door. He peeked his head of the second floor window and then smiled when he saw me.

"Oh, Brittany. It's you! Go right on in."

I heard the tell-tale sound of the buzzer being pressed on the studio space, and I pushed the door in. The super hasn't been able to rent the space for months, and he knows I want to rent it, but am saving up. So he's told me whenever I wanted to come look at it, just to buzz him and he'd let me in. He doesn't even come down and hang around while I'm in here anymore. He knows the most I'll do is pull a few spin moves on the floor if I'm bored.

I just liked being in the space. Seeing it, smelling it.

_I wish Santana was here with me._

Wait. Did I? I guess I wanted the Santana I was getting to know _before_ last night here. But I didn't know if that was possible.

I danced around the open floor for what ended up being over three hours. I checked my phone obsessively for texts or calls from Santana, but never received one. Finally, after an exceptionally angry and impassioned set of dance moves, I decided it was time to call it a night, and I begrudgingly headed home.

_If Santana wanted to come see me, she would have._

I had to keep reminding myself of that. She chose not to show up, so she must have made up her mind that she didn't want to wait the rest of the month for me.

As these thoughts rolled through my head on the way home, I started feeling a torrent of emotions well up inside my chest, and before I knew it, I had to pull the car off the side of the road. I couldn't see through my tears.

* * *

><p><em>[The Next Evening—Wednesday]<em>

_[Still Brittany's POV]_

I had called Mike the night before, grateful for his offer to take over my classes for two days. Thought I had known Santana for only such a short period of time, there was something about her that made everything that happened seem so much more dramatic and devastating than it probably should have. I needed some head space, and some time to sleep off my addiction to the gorgeous Latina woman.

I couldn't, however, call out of work at Manny's Pub. I arrived at work just after 5:15, late as usual. Manny glared at me as I rushed through the door, but kept his comments to himself. He wasn't crazy about me, and _hated_ that I was always late, but he could never fire me because the customers loved me so much. They would revolt if he let me go.

I went through the motions of a typical shift: pouring beers, mixing drinks, bringing out customers' food, and flirting up a storme with the hodgepodge of middle-aged men that were littered around the bar. Most of the regulars knew I was gay, and know they'll never get anywhere with me, but it doesn't mean they don't want to exchange some fun banter with a pretty girl. I oblige because it usually results in better tips. They're almost always respectful, but when they're not, Manny kicks them out. Come to think of it, maybe Manny doesn't dislike me as much as I think. It's usually a win-win situation with the customers, but tonight's flirting was definitely light, and definitely faker than usual.

"What's gotten into you tonight, Britt? Lady problems?" asked Carl, one of the nicest and kindest men that comes in here.

"Hah! You could definitely kind of say that. Sorry if I'm bringing down the mood of the place, I'm trying to keep my shit together, but I guess it's just not working?"

"Nah, you're doing just fine. I just pay attention to the _real_ you more than most of thse jokers in here."

I smiled at Carl and stepped out from behind the bar and into the bathroom. I locked myself in and took a huge, shaky breath, trying to steady myself. I turned to the mirror. Like usual, I wasn't wearing any make-up, except for a little touch of lip gloss. I splashed a little water on my face, trying to snap myself out of my daze, and then returned to the bar.

I finished my shift rather uneventfully, though I glanced at the door every time I heard it creak open, hoping to catch sight of Santana walking in to surprise me like she had two nights before. But, nothing.

_I guess that's that._

* * *

><p><em>[Same night]<em>

_[Santana's POV]_

I slammed the shot glass onto the bar with my right hand, and feverishly sucked on the lime in my left.

"God, Puck, how do you convince me to do tequila shots every time we come out? I **hate** them."

"Because I'm good at getting what I want from beautiful ladies," he replied with a smarmy look on his face.

"Ew, gross. Grow up, Puckerman."

He was still grinning, so I slugged him in the shoulder.

"Owww, Lopez. Geez, lay off. You know I was just kidding."

"I'm not in the mood for kidding, Puck."

"Yeah, no shit. What's gotten into you, anyways? Shouldn't you be on cloud nine with all that ass you're getting from Blondie McDancer?"

"If you don't knock it off right now, I'm going to punch you even harder, and then I'm out of here. And it's _Brittany_."

"Whoah, whoah, okay then. Brittany. Wow. You really like this one, don't you?"

"I wouldn't know, Puck. We haven't slept together, and I have spoken to her in two days. I think I really fucked it up."

"Spill."

I took a long drag from my beer and started from the beginning, telling Puck about her bet, about the connection I felt us having, about Kelly, about ditching Kelly, and about Monday night at my house. After finishing the story, I sighed, took another gulp of the beer, and turned towards Puck.

"So?"

"Dude… you have to call her."

"No, Puck, she would have called me if she wanted to see me again."

"How do you know that? Maybe she's waiting for you to apologize first. You are the one that messed up. She's probably paranoid about her bet and that you're not going to want to be with her because of it. You _have _ to call her."

"Puck, fuck off. I don't have to do anything."

I got up off the stool and threw some cash on the bar, and walked out.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I promised I would have this up before the Gleeson Finale, and here it is! I know things are a little rough for our girls right now, but just bear with me, please!**

**Also, reviews fuel the ego and motivate me to write more. Thanks for leaving them, and don't be shy!**

**UPDATE: So sorry if you got an alert thinking I posted again... I just updated this slightly. New post coming soon, though!**

_[One week later]_

_[Santana's POV]_

It's been just over a week since I royally fucked things up with Brittany, and I hadn't heard from her since. In fact, I hadn't done much of anything since. After the night where I filled Puck in, I'd been staying home from work, sleeping and drinking away the day. It is currently Wednesday… or is it Thursday? Yes, it's Thursday, and I'm out of work for the fifth straight business day. They think I have pneumonia.

I looked down at the Heineken in my hand and took a big gulp. It was getting warm, but I didn't really care, because it was doing the trick. I looked at the clock—2:13pm. I'd been up for about two hours, and was on my fourth beer, and through about six cigarettes.

My phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up and looked at the screen to see an overgrown Mohawk staring back at me.

*Ignore.*

The phone buzzed again.

"What do you want, Puck?"

"I want you to get the fuck out of your house for a change."

"I don't want to get out of my house. It's a nice house. I plan on staying in for a while longer, bud."

"Seriously, Santana. You gotta get out of this funk that you're in. If you won't come out, I'm coming over tonight."

"Not if I don't let you in."

"You're forgetting that I have your spare set of keys."

"Ugh. Fine. Come over. But don't expect me to be good company."

I slammed down the phone. I knew he was only trying to help make me feel better, but I really wasn't in the mood for company.

_[A few hours later]_

I was awoken by the sound of a key in the lock, and knew it must be close to 6:00 pm if Puck was off work and already at my house.

I looked up and saw him strolling through my kitchen and towards the couch I was laid down upon.

"Lopez, you look like shit. You're getting out of this apartment tonight, even if I have to drag you out."

I just groaned and rolled over, burying my face into the back of the couch.

"All right, that does it."

The next thing I knew, I was being lifted off the couch and thrown over his shoulders, though I did not go quietly. He carried me to the back of my house, into my bathroom, and leaned over to turn on the water in my shower before locking the door and setting me down. He stood before me, blocking the door.

"Now, you're going to get in the shower, and then we're going out. You have two options: First, is that I leave and you voluntarily get in the shower. The second involves me either stripping you naked or washing your hair with all your clothes on. Your pick."

I glared dagers through his eyes and directly into the back of his skill. He was reaching around and rubbing his lower back where I clawed him while he carried me down the hallway. I was sixing him up.

_I could take him if I really wanted to. But he's probably right. I do need to get out. It'll be good for me. Maybe I'll even find someone to bring home._

"Sigh. Okay, fine. Get out. I'll shower."

* * *

><p><em>[Puck's POV]<em>

_Great. Step one of my master plan is now complete._

"Now for step two. Where the hell does that chica leave her phone?"

* * *

><p><em>[Brittany's POV]<em>

I got home from work at the dance studio and immediately headed for the kitchen. It'd been another grueling day of classes and private lessons, and I'd probably burned, oh, seventy-five million calories. I needed food. I pulled out a Greek yogurt and a spoon and hopped up on the counter to eat it, flipping off my dance shoes onto the floor.

Naturally, as it has for over a week, my mind wandered to Santana.

_I wonder if she's thinking about me at all. Probably not; she would have called. I told her last week to call me if she wanted to go to the space I want for my dance studio with me. Nothing._

I took the last bite of my yogurt and put the spoon in the dishwasher. As I walked back towards my bedroom to take a shower, I heard a low buzzing noise coming from my bag on the kitchen counter. I had a text message. I pulled out the phone, and my heart stopped. It was staring me right in the face. What I had been waiting for: "NEW MSG: SANTANA." I took a deep breath, slid over the lock on my screen, and read the message.

*Hey Britt, I'm so sry it's taken me so long to txt u. I want to see u tnght. Meet me at 9 at Route 86? Xoxo, S.*

I exhaled as I finished reading it, not realizing that I had been holding my breath.

_She wants to see me. Tonight._

I quickly tapped out a reply.

*Honestly, I'm still really upset w/ you. What changed? Why should I meet you now, after over a week? –B*

*What changed is that I've woken up and realized what an idiot I am. Please, B. Please. Xoxo, S.*

I had my doubts. I wanted to go, but I had to know one last thing before I was willing to commit.

*What are your intentions for tonight? –B*

*To apologize. To apologize in person, properly. To hopefully convince u to forgive me, and then to spend the rest of the night trying to make it up to you w/ great conversation. Xoxo, S*

I couldn't help but smile at her last comment. She really did know just what to say to make a girl swoon.

*OK, I'll meet you at 9. But tonight's your one chance to make it up to me. I don't do third chances. –B*

*Understood. Nor should you. Can't wait to see you. Xoxo, S*

I smiled as I tossed my phone to my bed and checked the clock: 6:41.

_Two hours to get ready before I go meet Santana. Get a move on, Pierce._

* * *

><p><em>[Santana's POV]<em>

After I dried off and put on my robe, I walked out in the living room to see Pick messing with my phone.

"I know you've got a death wish."

"Uh, sorry, San. I was just playing 'Draw Something.'"

I snatched it away, closed the game screen, and set it back on the coffee table.

"Okay Puck. What's the deal?"

"I'm getting you out of your funk, that's the deal. We're going to Route 86. Wear the hottest outfit you have. Now, do I need to stay here and babysit you or can I go home and get ready myself?"

I picked up Puck's keys he had set on the coffee table and chucked them at him, hitting him squarely in the chest.

"Good," he said, "that's what I was hoping for. Okay, I'll pick you up at 8:30. Be ready."

With that he took his swagger and went back out the front door, leaving me to wonder what the hell had just happened. Puck and I had always had a brother-sister type relationship, and we always looked out for the other's best interests. He really was my best friend. Even though I really had no desire to go out tonight, I knew it was what was best for me. I really did have to shake this.

I walked back up to my room and into my closet.

_The hottest thing I owned, huh?_

After trying on about a dozen different outfits, I'd finally found the perfect one: a pair of white pants that were super tight and made my ass look amazing, with a red halter top that stopped about two inches above the waist line on the pants. I matched it with my hot red Louboutins, red lip stick, and straightened my hair so that it fell halfway down my back. I looked at the clock and noticed it was only 8:10, so I quickly went into the kitchen and heated up some Easy Mac. It was the first thing I'd eaten all day.

Just as I was brushing my teeth, I heard an obnoxious, low-pitched blaring noise from outside: Puckerman's car horn. Sure enough, it was 8:30 on the dot. I took one last look over in the mirror.

_Here goes nothing._

As Puck and I pulled into the parking spot at Route 86, I noticed he was acting a little squirrelly.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Not—nothing. Just pumped I got you out of the house, that's all. Come on, let's go in and get a drink." Puck said as he looked down at his watch.

Habitually, it made me look at the clock on my phone: 8:52.

We walked in and took two seats at the bar, near the door. Puck waived down the bartender and ordered us two Amber Bocks, while continuously looking over his shoulder towards the door.

"Seriously, Noah. What the hell is wrong with you? You expecting someone? Cause if you brought me out here just to bail and hit on some girl…"

"No, no, Santana. It's nothing like that, I promise. Just relax, okay?"

I nodded and took a swig of my beer, scanning the inside of the bar for hot girls. There was a group of three girls at a table in the corner, each of which were pretty good-looking. As I locked eyes on them, they all quickly turned away and started giggling.

_They're definitely checking us out._

Now, I just had to find out who they thought was hot—me or Puck. I spun in my stool around facing them, and started to stand up when I felt Puck's hand wrap around my wrist.

"Where are you going?" he asked, with slight panic in his eyes.

"Relax, man, I'm just going across the bar. I'm not leaving, I promise."

And I shook him off and swiftly weaved between the tables towards the girls in the corner.

"Hey ladies, mind if I join you for a minute?" I asked, innocently.

The girl to my left, a shorter, tanned girl with long blond hair and a navy blue dress on, smiled and nodded as I pulled a chair over from the neighboring table. I had this routine down pat. Whenever Puck and I couldn't tell who a girl was interested in, I went over and just started talking to them. If they kept me engaged in conversation, I was the target. If they started asking about my friend, obviously, they were interested in men. I introduced myself and shook each of their hands in turn, making eye contact to aid in the determination process. Slowly, as we all engaged in small talk, it became incredibly clear that the two girls to my right were all about Puckasaurus. The blond to my left though, was completely enthralled in everything I was saying, and had even touched my arm a few times while laughing at my corny jokes.

_I've got her hooked._

I turned more towards her, ready to ask Natalie—that was her name—to tell me more about herself. I placed my left hand on the back of her chair, subtly leaning in closer and allowing our knees to touch. Just then, I heard Puck's voice loudly over the crowd.

"Oh, hey, Brittany. She's, ummm… she's talking to…"

I snapped my head around towards the door to see Brittany staring straight at me while I was flirting with Natalie. The look on her face looked so pained, and all the color had drained from Puck's face.

_WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE? Shit, shit, shit, shit shit!_

I jumped up from the table, knocking my chair back, and rushed across the bar.

"Brittany, hey, how did you… I mean, what are you… I mean, it's really, really good to see you but…"]

"No, Santana. Just, no. I told you this was your last chance? Why would you do this to me? Did you just want me to know that you've moved on? Fuck you, Santana. Go to hell."

Brittany had started crying during her rant, and quickly rushed out the exit, across the parking lot, and was fumbling with her keys when I finally reached her car.

"Brittany, what are you talking about? I…"

"No, Santana. _I saw you with her just now._ Don't lie to me. I know exactly what you were doing. Goodbye, Santana."

And as I stood there, stunned and completely confused, she slammed the door shut and drove away.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: As always, my readers are better than all the rest. If you like the story, please leave a review and pimp it on Twitter/Tumblr/anywhereelseyoupimpBrittana! 3. This chapter is slightly shorter than some of the previous ones, but it was a good stopping point, and I wanted to get something posted. Hopefully you still like it!**

_[__Santana's POV]_

Brittany had started crying during her rant, and quickly rushed out the exit, across the parking lot, and was fumbling with her keys when I finally reached her car.

"Brittany, what are you talking about? I…"

"No, Santana. _I saw you with her just now._ Don't lie to me. I know exactly what you were doing. Goodbye, Santana."

And as I stood there, stunned and completely confused, she slammed the door shut and drove away.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see Puck at my side, as white as a ghost.

"Santana, get in the car… NOW."

The tone in his voice let me know how serious he was, so we both bolted across the parking lot, and jumped in his car. He started backing out of the parking space before I could even shut the door.

We pulled out and he took a sharp left.

"I think she went this way."

"Puck, what are you _doing_? Are you _following her_?"

"Yes. This was my fault—all my fault. I was trying to help, and I texted her from your phone and I…"

"Wait… you did WHAT?"

"When you were in the shower earlier, I pretended to be you and texted her on your phone, saying you wanted to apologize and to meet you here tonight. You've just been so fucking depressed lately, I knew seeing her was the only thing that would jolt you out of it, but you're too damn proud to have done that yourself. I was trying to help, and now I've just made things worse."

Halfway through his speech I was already scrolling back through my texts from the day, finding Brittany's and reading the whole conversation.

"Fuck, Puck. She made it _crystal clear_ that this was the last chance she was giving me. Why in the world didn't you just tell me and keep me from talking to those girls? That's what she's pissed about!"

"I know, I know, but I was too afraid that if I told you, you'd bail and then I'd really be up shits creek…"

In interrupted him, "Puck, turn right, I see her car. I should have known."

Puck turned right and pulled into Manny's Pub. She was parked in the front row of spaces, and I could see she was still sitting in her car, head bent down over the steering wheel. Her shoulders were shaking, and she had buried her face in her hands.

_She's crying. She's bawling, actually. Because of me._

"Okay, dickwad, stay here. You've already fucked this up enough for me tonight. And I swear to God that if you leave me here, I will prevent you from ever fathering children."

"Aye aye, captain. Go get her."

He put the car in park a few spaces away from Brittany's, and I crawled out of the passenger side. I walked over to the side of Brittany's car and knocked on the window.

"Go away," came the muffled cry of Brittany from inside the car. "Just go away!"

"Britt, please at least roll down the window a crack so you can hear me without my yelling. Unless you want all your customers and co-workers hear me talk about _us_."

She took in a few sharp breaths and finally peeled one hand away from her face, pressing the button to roll down the window about a third of the way.

"Brittany, I never meant to hurt you. I had no idea you were coming to Route 86 tonight. That was Puck that was texting you from my phone earlier. I was completely in the dark. I would have never been talking to those girls had I known you were coming."

Her hands came completely away from her face, and her head tilted slightly towards the window. Her face was scrunched up, from what looked like half trying to hold back tears, and half from being deep in thought.

"So, then that means you still didn't want to apologize, and you still didn't want to see me. You'd rather be at a bar hitting on random girls than having to deal with me. I see."

I cut in as quickly as I could.

"No, no, no… that's not the case at all. Look… can I get in so we can actually look at each other? Or can you get out and we can go into Manny's and talk this out over a drink? Anything that's slightly more normal than talking through a car window?"

"Fine. Get in." She reached over and unlocked the car, so I walked around and slipped into the passenger seat, turning my body to completely face Brittany's in the driver's seat.

"Britt, I don't even know where to begin, because there is so much I probably should be apologizing for, so let me just start by saying that I'm sorry… for everything. I'm sorry for what I did to you last week, I'm sorry for not calling you, I'm sorry for not texting you, I'm sorry for what happened tonight. I'm so sorry for it all."

I paused, and folded my hands in my lap.

"The truth is… the truth is that I'm absolutely terrified, and, well, I'm an idiot. But I've been absolutely dying inside since the last time we saw each other. You're all I've thought about. You're all I've dreamed about. I haven't been able to function."

"What are you saying? Why didn't you call, then?"

"Because, like I said, I'm an idiot, apparently. I'm stubborn, and really hard-headed. And, honestly, I was probably just being too proud to admit how royally had messed things up, or that I even cared that I had messed things up."

"So then what happened tonight?"

"Well, I've been… a bit of a mess lately. And Puck had finally convinced me to get out of my house, so I guess he thought that the best thing for me was to see you, but he knew that I would never try to fix the situation on my own. He was trying to help by getting us together so we could talk, he's just not very smooth."

"… And those girls you were talking to?"

"I had never met them before. They were staring at Puck and I, so I went over there to see who they were interested in. I was just trying to stay occupied."

"What do you mean, 'occupied'?"

"Like… I was trying to get my mind off of… things. Off of you, mainly."

There was a pause in the conversation, and finally I spoke again.

"That probably sounded worse than I meant for it to. It's just that I had figured that, since I hadn't heard anything from you, that you'd decided you were done with me. And after what I did to you, I probably deserve that. So I was trying to keep myself occupied, rather than sit at home and drink and smoke."

She looked me square in the eyes when I said the last part of the sentence, making eye contact for the first time since when we were in Route 86.

"Is that what you've been doing, instead of calling me?"

Her voice was shaky, and I saw a single tear roll down her cheek once again. I answered meekly.

"Yes, mainly."

And then, she reached across the middle console and took my hands in both of hers, resting them on my lap. My heart fluttered lightly at the feeling of her fingers wrapping around mine, and I lifted my eyes to hers once more.

"Santana," she said softly, "you can't do that to yourself."

I nodded.

We sat silent in the car for a moment, and Brittany brushed her right thumb lightly over the back of my hand. Finally, she broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, too."

"Sorry for what?" I asked.

"I'm sorry I never called. I could have. I should have…. I, I really wanted to. But I was just so mad at you for what you did. I've never had someone treat me like that and it scared me."

"And it should have scared you. You don't deserve that at all. I really don't know what happened, and I can't apologize enough. I don't expect you to forgive me or choose to see me anymore, but I just want you to know how terribly, terribly sorry I am. Again, about everything." I paused, taking in a deep breath before saying these last words, "I'll let you go now. I'm so sorry to have dragged you into the mess of a life I've been living lately. You're _beautiful_, and innocent, and _**everything that's **_good in this miserable, stinking _**world**_. You're everything I hope to find in a woman once I'm woman enough to deserve it."

With that, I reached for the door handle, pulled, and started to exit the car, feeling very at peace with what I had said.

But she tightened her grip on my free hand and tugged me back down. When I looked at her with surprise, she smiled.

"You got your turn to talk. Don't I get a turn?"

* * *

><p><em>[Brittany's POV]<em>

She smiled slightly and settled back into the seat. I reached across and pulled her other hand back into my grasp.

"Did you not notice the fact that I am sitting here, holding your hands?"

"I mean, yeah, I did. But I thought you were just trying to make me feel better."

"Santana, I _was_ trying to make you feel better, because _I want to forgive you._"

She gave me a quizzical look. "You're forgiving me? For everything?" She asked.

I smiled back.

"Santana, you're all I've been able to think about, too. And that's after only having known each other for a few days. I have been obsessively checking my phone, checking the door at both the studio and the bar, hoping that you'd show up to talk to me. I have been ready to forgive you at the drop of a hat, I just needed you to apologize. And you have."

"I… I don't know what to say…" Santana said, quietly.

"You don't have to say anything," I said smiling, reaching up to the back of her neck, and pulling her in for a deep, sensual kiss. "That said it all," I whispered when she we reluctantly pulled apart.

She pulled her arm around the back of my shoulder and pulled me in again, tangling her free hand in my blond hair as she kissed me longer, more intensely than before. "Then I want to keep saying more," she said, with a slight giggle, kissing me yet again.

I sighed as our lips separated, so content with the feeling of being wrapped up into each other.

* * *

><p><em>[Santana's POV]<em>

"Britt, can I ask you out on a real date now?"

She blushed slightly. "You can _ask_, sure. I can't guarantee you'll like the answer," she said, coyly.

"Hmmm… well, I'll have to take my chances. Brittany Pierce, will you go dancing with me tonight? We could go back to Route 86 for the night."

She smiled and squeezed my hand slightly. "I'd love to, Santana Lopez."

As she said 'yes,' she leaned in and placed a hand on my cheek, kissing me lightly. As she pulled away, she whispered softly, "Maybe you can tell Puck to get lost now. I'd hate for him to ruin the rest of the night, too." She chuckled at herself at the end her sentence.

"Ahh… good call." I placed another kiss on her soft lips before hopping out of the car and walking over to Puck's truck to tell him to get out of there.

"Puckerman, I owe you, and I want to kill you, all at once. Either way, I don't want to see you again til tomorrow. Get outta here. I think I've got a ride home now," I said, winking.

He smiled back at me, nodding as he pulled carefully out of the parking spot and back onto the main road. I sauntered back to Brittany's car, trying to put on the sexiest smile I could muster as I got back into the car.

"Route 86, sexy?" I asked.

She smiled, took my hand in her right hand, and pulled out towards our dancing destination.


End file.
